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LOVELL'S LIBRARY -CATALOGUE. 



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Hyperion, by H. W, Longfellow. .20 
Outre-Mer, by'H.W. Longfellow. 20 
The Happy Boy, by BjOrnson — 10 

Arne, by Bjornson 10 

Frankenstein, by Mrs. Shelley. . . 10 

The Last of the Mohicans 20 

Clytie, by Joseph Hatton. . 20 

The Moonstone, by < ollins, P'tl.10 
The Moonstone, by Collins, P'tII.10 
Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens. 20 
The Coming Race, by Lytton — 10 

Leila, by Lord Lytton 10 

The Three Spaniards, by Walker. 20 
TheTricks of the GreeksUnveiled.20 
L'Abbe Constantin, by Halevy..20 
Freckles, by R. F. Redcliff . . . .20 
The Dark Colleen, by Harriett Jay. 20 
They Were Married 1 by Walter 

Besant and JameB Rice 10 

Seekers after God, by Farrar. . . , . .20 
The Spanish Nun. by DeQuincey.10 

The Green Monntaia Boys 

Fleurette, by Eugena Scribe. . . 
Second Thoughts, by Broughton.20 
The New Magdalen, by Collins.. 20 
Divorce, by Margaret I ..20 

Life of Washington, by Henley.. 20 
Social Etiquette, by Mrs. Saville.15 
.e Heart and Double Face 

Irene, by Carl Detlef ., 

Vice Versa, by F. Anstey 

Ernest Maltravers, by LordLyttonSO 
The Haunted House andCalderon 

the Courtier, by Lord Lytton.. 10 
John Halifax, by Miss Mulock 

800 Leagues on the Amazon 10 

The Cryptogram, by Jules Vera 

Life of Marion, by Horr; , 

Paul and Virginia 10 

Tale of Two Cities, by Dickens. .2 » 

The Hermits, by Kingsley 20 

An Adventure in Thule, and Mar- 
riage of Moira Fergus, Black .10 

A Marriage in h igh Life 

Robin, by Mrs. Parr 20 

TwoonaTower, by Thos. Hardy. 2 > 
Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson.... 10 
Alice; or, the Mysteries, being 

Part II. of Frnest Maltniv. rs..20 
Duke of Kandos, by A. Ma* 

Baron Munchausen 

A Princess of Thule, by Black. .20 
The Secret Despatch, by Grant, 20 
Early Days of Christianity, by 

Canon Farrar, D D , Part I. . 
Early Days of Chri.- 
Vicar of Wakef" 
Progress and Poverty, by Henry 

George 

The Spy, by Coopr 

Ea*t Lynne. by Mrs. 

A Strange Story, by Lord Lytton.. 

Adam Bede, by "Eliot. Pa 

Adam Bede, Part II.;. 

The Golden Shaft, by Gibbon. 

Portia, by The Du< 

Last Davs of Pompeii, by 1 

The Two Duchesses, by Mathe; 

Tom Browns School Days 20 






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The Wooing O't, by Mrs. Alex- 
ander, Parti 15 

The "W ooing 0% Part II 15 

The Vendetta, by Balzac 20 

Hypatia,byChas.Kingsley,P , tI.15 
Hypatia, by Kingsley, Part II. ... 15 

Selma, by Mrs J. G. Smith 15 

Margaret and her Bridesmaids. .20 
Horse Shoe Robinson, Parti. ...15 
Horse Shoe Robinson, Part II. . .15 

Gulliver's Travels, by Swift 20 

Amos Barton, by George Eliot... 10 

The Berber, by W E . Mayo 20 

Silas Marner, by George Eliot. . .10 

The Queen of the Count;} 20 

Life of Cromwell, by Hood... 15 
Jane Eyre, I y Charlotte Bronte* . 20 

Child's History of England 20 

Molly Bawn, by The Duchess... 20 

Pillone, bv William BergsOe 15 

Phyllis, by The Duchess 20 

Romola, by Geo. Eliot, Part I. . . 15 
Romola, by Geo. Eliot, Part II. . 15 
Science in Short Ch apters ... ... 20 

Zanoni, by Lord Lytton ........ .20 

A Daughter of Heth 20 

The Right and Wrong U?es of 
the Bible, R. Heber TSTewton...20 

Night and Korning, Pt. 1 15 

Night and Morning, Part II 15 

Shandon Bells, by Wm. B'ack. .20 
Monica, by the Duchesi- . .10 

Heart and Science, by Collins. . .20 
The Golden Calf, by Braddon. . .20 

The Dean*! Daughter 20 

Srey, by The Duchess. .20 

vick Papers , Part 1 20 

Pickwick Papers, Part II 20 

Airy, Fairy Lilian, The Duchess. 20 
McLeod of Dare, by Wm. Black. 20 
Tempest Tossed, by Til ton Pt 
Tempest Tossed,by Tilton. P tII20 
Letters from High Latitudes, by 

Lord Dufferin 20 

Gideon Fierce, by Lucy 20 

India and Ceylon, by E. Hscckei 

The Gypsy Queen 

The Admiral's Ward. 20 

port, by E. L. Bynner, P'tl ..15 
Nimport. byE. L. Bynner, Ft I] 

Harry Holbrook* 

Tr:t . Bynner, P'tl... 15 

Tritons, by E. L. r, P til. .15 

i <>u Dismay, by 

10 

Secret, by Miss 

□ t 20 

Woman's Place To-day, by Mrs. 

LillieD Blake 20 

Dunallan. by Kennedy, Part I. 
Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part II. .15 
Ho ing and Home-ma 

ing, ion Ha-land 15 

NoNewThing, by W. E. Norris.20 

apers 20 

i opes, by Coldwin Smith. 1 5 

Labor and Capital 20 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part 1 15 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part II 15 



f 

THE 



LIFE, SPEECHES AND MEMORIALS 



OF. 



DANIEL WEBSTER; sn * 



CONTAINING 

HIS MOST CELEBRATED ORATIONS, A SELECTION FROM THE 

EULOGIES DELIVERED ON THE OCCASION OF HIS DEATH; 

AND HIS LIFE AND TIMES, 



BY 



SAMUEL M. SMUCKER, LL.D. 



PART I. 



NEW YORK: 
JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 
14 & 16 Vesey Street. 



E 340 

4 S 3£ 



■* 



THE 



LIFE AND TIMES 



OF 



DANIEL WEBSTER 



CHAPTER I. 

Birth of Daniel Webster — Sketch of his Family — His Boyhood— His 
First Teachers — Enters a Law-Office — Becomes a Student of Phillips 
Academy — Peculiarities of Dr. Abbot—Webster commences to teach 
School — His Usefulness and Success. 

All civilized nations have been proud of the fame of their 
most eminent orators and statesmen. Greece, the gifted land 
of ancient art and genius, boasts of her Demosthenes and 
iEschines ; Rome, the martial mistress of the world, of 
her Cicero and Hortensius ; England, of her Chatham and 
Burke ; France, of her Mirabeau and Vergniaud. Our 
own country justly entertains the same sentiment of par- 
tiality and admiration for her two most illustrious citizens, 
her Clay and Webster. These are her greatest intel- 
lectual giants ; and around their achievements as orators, 
as patriots, and as statesmen a deathless interest will con- 
tinue to cluster, as long as this Republic retains a place 
either in reality, or even in history, and as long as liberty 
is enjoyed or revered among men. 

Daniel Webster, the intellectual Colossus of the New 

9 



10 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

World, was born at Salisbury, New Hampshire, on the 
18th of January, 1782. He was the youngest son of 
Ebenezer and Abigail Webster. He first saw the light in 
the remotest recesses of what was at that time the extreme 
verge of civilization, on the northeastern boundary of the 
United States. The humble tenement in which he was 
born was the last house which then existed in the direction 
of the Canadian frontier. 

Daniel was one of a family of ten children ; and his 
ancestors were worthy to have preceded so illustrious a 
man. They had been residents of Rockingham county, 
New Hampshire, from the commencement of the eighteenth 
century, and had always been esteemed for their superior 
intelligence and moral worth. His father, Ebenezer Web- 
ster, was a man of rare virtues and of great mental 
powers. His large, muscular frame encased a soul gifted 
with qualities which allied him in character to the sternest 
sages of Greece or Rome. He never attended school a 
single day; yet by his self-taught exertions he attained a 
wide and accurate acquaintance with knowledge of almost 
every description. In those primeval times when the 
luxuries and even the conveniences of civilization were 
rarely attainable, except by those most favored by fortune, 
Ebenezer Webster pursued his lonely and undirected 
studies at night by the lurid light of blazing pine-knots ; 
and thus he gradually prepared himself to assume no 
numble place among his contemporaries. During the trials 
of the Revolutionary era he was made the captain of a 
company of his co-patriots; he served with honor at 
Bennington and White Plains ; and, after peace was pro- 
claimed, he received, among other marks of esteem and 
confidence from his fellow-citizens, the office of Associate 
Judge in the Court of Common Pleas. 

Of the other members of the family, the most remark- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 11 

able was Ezekiel Webster, an elder brother of Daniel. He 
too became a lawyer, was a man of superior ability, pos- 
sessing the same massive mould of intellectual as well as 
physical character which marked his more illustrious 
brother ; but he died suddenly and prematurely, in the 
midst of an argument which he was delivering before the 
court at Concord, in his native State, at the age of forty- 
nine. 

The boyhood of Daniel Webster was spent in the 
obscure and rural retreat where he was born. At this 
period he was of slender frame and delicate health. It is 
narrated that the most remarkable feature of the strangely 
intelligent and thoughtful child then were two immense 
eyes, which seemed to be instinct with thought, feeling, 
and expression ; and, as we turn over the annals of the 
earliest years of this wondrous man, we meet with addi- 
tional proofs that a mother's mind and power, as in the vast 
majority of cases, moulded and gave character to the future 
mental and moral qualities of the man. Daniel's mother 
was his first and best teacher. From her he received the 
first rudiments of learning. His first text-book was also 
the best; for it was the Bible. So early had he been 
taught his letters, that he is reported to have declared that 
he could not remember the time when he could not spell. 
As he grew in years, he increased in intelligence, and was 
remarked for a degree of wit which surpassed his fellows. 
When a boy, having set the bed-clothes on fire while reading 
late at night, he replied, when reproved for his careless- 
ness, that he was in search of light, but was sorry to say 
that he received more of it than he desired. 

The first school which Daniel attended was situated two 
miles and a half from the paternal residence, and it was 
necessary for him, even during the severest rigors of winter, 
to walk thither and back. He was ardent in the pursuit of 



12 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

knowledge, and, indeed, seemed intuitively to appreciate its 
vast importance. At the age of fourteen lie could repeat 
from memory the whole of Pope's Essay on Man, together 
with a large proportion of the hymns and psalms of Dr. 
Watts. His first teachers were Thomas Chase and James 
Tappan, to whom belonged the honor of having aided in 
the opening of the mind and the first development of the 
powers of this as yet quiescent and infant giant. These 
faithful and patient pedagogues have long since passed 
away to the oblivious repose of the tomb; but their services 
in this connection entitle them to honorable mention in 
the history of their illustrious pupil through all coming 
time. 

It is also worthy of remark that during his boyish days 
Daniel was called on to contribute his share of manual 
work to the usual labors of his father's farm ; and we may 
readily imagine the boy, arrayed in his tow frock and 
trowsers, with his rake or sickle in his hand, perspiring at 
every pore, toiling hard during the long days of harvest- 
time to gather the gold-bearing crop. Of this feature of 
his youthful days Daniel Webster was ever afterward 
proud ; and in his great speech on the " Agriculture of 
England," delivered in Boston in 1840, he referred with 
undisguised pleasure to the fact that in his early life he 
had been made familiar with the labors and the details of 
husbandry. 

At the age of fourteen Daniel was permitted by his 
father to become office-boy to Mr. Thomas W. Thompson, 
a young lawyer who at that period removed to Elm 
Farm and commenced practice. The latter was frequently 
compelled to be absent from home, and he needed some 
one to answer for him to clients and visitors when he him- 
self was not present. He rewarded the lad by permitting 
him to use some of his books, and by giving him useful 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 13 

t 

directions as to his studies. He first placed in Daniel's 
hands a Latin grammar. Soon, without any difficulty, the 
lad mastered a large portion of its dry details. Next 
came other productions, of a more intricate and ponderous 
nature ; among which were some of the more elaborate 
and profound works on English real-estate law. It is said 
that the youthful student pored over these books during 
six hours each morning, while the afternoon was given to 
the more congenial reading of Shakspeare and other lead- 
ing works in the more attractive department of belles- 
lettres literature. 

We may readily suppose that this very early tincture of 
legal knowledge may have given young Webster's mind a 
bias for the abstruse science of the law, which afterward 
attracted him toward that profession as his chief employ- 
ment in the future. But it will doubtless clearly appear 
to every reflecting mind that such a course of instruction 
as that which was thus suggested to young Webster w T as 
pernicious, because it was badly arranged. He had not 
yet received the most necessary and essential amount of 
elementary instruction ; and this was absolutely requisite 
to fit him for the attainment of higher and more ultimate 
professional knowledge. Accordingly, it was resolved by 
his parents that he should be sent to an academy, not 
indeed to prepare him for the further study of the law, but to 
fit him to act as a school-teacher as the future business of 
bis life. Accordingly, on the 24th of May, 1796, young 
Webster set out on horseback for Phillips Academy at 
Exeter, in the county of Rockingham, in his native State, 
to pursue a course of academical study. This was the 
most celebrated institution of the kind then in New Eng- 
land. He rode thither on a side-saddle placed upon a 
horse intended for the use of a lady in Exeter, and his 
appearance was not the most attractive. His outward 

2 



li THE LIFE AND TIMES 

bodily traits were also by no means pleasing. He seemed 
to be a person destined soon to become the victim of con- 
sumption ; nor would any intelligent observer have pre- 
dicted for him a long life, any more than he would have 
guaranteed him an illustrious career. He was accom- 
panied to Exeter by his father. Appearing in the presence 
of Dr. Benjamin Abbot, the president of the academy, 
that pompous but able official questioned the timid lad 
severely as to his previous studies ; and after these in- 
quiries were satisfactorily answered, he ordered him to 
read a passage from the Bible. It was the twenty-second 
chapter of Luke. Young Daniel had been taught to read 
or recite with great impressiveness by his intelligent 
mother ; and he acquitted himself so admirably on this 
occasion that he at once gained the friendly regard of the 
pedagogical potentate, and was received as a pupil. "Young 
man," said the latter, with a solemn, dictatorial emphasis 
which we may imagine but not describe, " you are qualified 
to enter this institution I" 

Webster remained at Phillips Academy during nine 
months. He was in truth a hard student. He rapidly 
acquired a vast amount of information. His preceptor, 
Dr. Abbot, declared in after-years that he never knew a 
boy whose power of amassing and retaining knowledge 
equalled that of young Webster. He was especially facile 
and apt in the comprehension and acquisition of principles ; 
and in nine months he accomplished as much as most 
youths would have done in two years. His health was 
still feeble. He seemed to have a head far too large 
and ponderous for his feeble body. But he impressed 
every one connected with the institution with his superior 
intellectual powers. From Exeter he returned home, and 
commenced to teach school. His father's means being 
limited, he wished to earn something for himself, and to 



OF t)ANIEL WEBSTER* 15 

deliberate upon his future plans of life* He was younger 
than many of his pupils ; yet he was amply qualified to 
impart to them the most valuable instruction. He was 
popular as a teacher both among his scholars and with 
their parents and friends ; and he might perhaps have con- 
tinued to labor in this humble sphere during some years, 
had not a propitious circumstance seemed accidentally to 
rescue him from the obscurity to which it would have con- 
signed him. 



16 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER II. 

Webster's Intercourse with Dr. Samuel Wood — He prepare? himself foi 
College — He enters Dartmouth College — His Habits and Pursuits — 
He delivers a Fourth-of-July Oration — Extract from it — He completes 
his Collegiate Course — His Speech at graduating. 

At this period the Rev. Samuel Wood, LL.D., a clergy- 
man of talents and learning, and possessing an especially 
generous nature, removed to Boscawen, a short distance 
from Salisbury, the residence of young Webster. He was 
a graduate of Dartmouth College ; and one of his most 
amiable qualities was the deep interest which he took in 
the advancement of youths who exhibited superior mental 
powers, or who seemed anxious to attain knowledge and 
distinction. An elective affinity soon attracted him to 
young Webster ; and in a short time he felt a deep con- 
cern in his welfare. Daniel became a pupil of Dr. Wood, 
and remained several months under his tuition. He would 
have continued doubtless much longer, had not a benevolent 
plan been conceived by his tutor in reference to him. He 
discovered what an intellectual gem of the first magnitude 
and of the purest water lay embedded in the person of his 
gifted scholar ; and he determined that it should not always 
remain hidden in the "dark unfathomed caves" of the 
ocean of obscurity where it then lay. He conversed with 
Daniel's father on the subject, and urged upon him the 
importance of sending his talented son to Dartmouth 
College. The proposition at first startled him. That was 
a bold and ambitious venture for his favorite son, which 
he had never anticipated, and scarce even then dared to 
contemplate. Though he then possessed a large tract e£ 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 



land, which in the progress of time would become valuable, 
yet at that moment it was but little productive. His means 
therefore were limited, and his family was large. On the 
other hand, parental pride and affection pleaded loudly in 
favor of the measure. At length, after much deliberation and 
a desperate struggle, it was determined that Daniel should 
be sent to Dartmouth. When first informed of this im- 
portant and decisive step by his father while riding with 
him in a rude sleigh in a remote and snow-covered part of 
the country, the emotions of the lad were too great for 
utterance. At one moment he wept, and at another ex- 
alted, and expressed his joy and gratitude to his father in 
feeling terms : for he well knew that no small sacrifices 
would be necessary on the part of his parent to enable him 
to carry out this resolution. 

Daniel immediately commenced to prepare himself for 
his removal to the college. He arrived at Hanover at the 
moment when the Faculty of the institution were engaged 
in examining candidates for admission to the Freshman 
class. No time was to be lost; and young Webster, 
covered with mud, drenched with rain, and presenting in 
every respect a most unfavorable aspect, was called upon 
to undergo the terrible ordeal. His appearance was 
singular indeed. The rain had completely saturated his 
suit of blue clothes, which had been woven, made, and 
dyed at home, and the fugitive colors had in some measure 
been transferred to his person. He was then not only de- 
serving of the epithet of "Black Dan," but also of "Blue 
Dan." Notwithstanding his repulsive appearance, he 
passed a favorable examination, and was admitted to the 
Freshman class. Dr. John Wheelock was then president, 
whose kindly regard toward the young applicant had been 
procured by the frie'idly influence and interposition of 

Dr. Wood. 

2* 



18 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

During Webster's residence at Dartmouth College lie 
was studious, orderly and industrious. It has long been 
the fashion of common and vulgar report to represent his 
conduct at this time differently ; and thousands of idle and 
worthless juveniles, who have wasted and squandered the 
inestimable advantages of early education which were 
offered them, and frequently almost forced upon them, 
have excused their fatal follies and neglect of their oppor- 
tunities by the supposed example of young Webster. 
Nothing could b t e more erroneous and preposterous than 
the supposition that he was idle and negligent of his 
studies while at college. His teachers at the institution 
boldly predicted his future eminence ; nor would they have 
done this had his conduct not then been worthy of ad- 
miration and applause. He did not excel in Greek and 
mathematics : for these branches he exhibited but little 
fondness. But every other department of academical 
learning, especially logic, psychology, moral philosophy, 
and all those sciences which particularly require grasp and 
profundity of thought, he mastered with facility. When in 
his seventeenth year, in 1800, he was invited by the citizens 
of Hanover to deliver a Fourth-of-July oration. He ac- 
cepted the invitation, which was itself a mark of honor, 
and delivered the first of his speeches, of which a record 
has been transmitted to posterity. It was entitled "An 
Oration pronounced at Hanover, New Hampshire, on the 
4th of July, 1800, being the Twenty-Fourth Anniversary 
of American Independence, by Daniel Webster, member 
of the Junior Class, Dartmouth University." It was pub- 
lished by the request of the subscribers, and printed at 
Hanover by Moses David, shortly after its delivery. That 
the reader may form an idea of the style of the youthful 
orator, we will quote an extract from this singular yet 
meritorious production : 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 19 

" No sooner was peace restored with England (the first 
grand article of which was the acknowledgment of our 
Independence) than the old system of Confederation, 
dictated at first by necessity, and adopted for the pur- 
poses of the moment, was found inadequate to the govern- 
ment of an extensive empire. Under a full conviction 
of this, we then saw the people of these States engaged in 
a transaction which is undoubtedly the greatest approxima- 
tion toward human perfection the political world ever yet 
witnessed, and which, perhaps, will forever stand in the 
history of mankind without a parallel. A great Republic, 
composed of different States, whose interest in all respects 
could not be perfectly compatible, then came deliberately 
forward, discarded one system of government and adopted 
another, without the loss of one man's blood. 

" There is not a single Government now existing in 
Europe which is not based in usurpation, and established, 
if established at all, by the sacrifice of thousands. But 
in the adoption of our present system of jurisprudence 
we see the powers necessary for government voluntarily 
flowing from the people, their only proper origin, and 
directed to the public good, their only proper object. 

" With peculiar propriety we may now felicitate our- 
selves on that happy form of mixed government under 
which we live. The advantages resulting to the citizens 
of the Union are utterly incalculable, and the day when 
it was received by a majority of the States shall stand on 
the catalogue of American anniversaries second to none 
but the birthd-ay of Independence. 

" In consequence of the adoption of our present system 
of government, and the virtuous manner in which it was 
administered by a Washington and an Adams, we are this 
day in the enjoyment of peace, while war devastates 
Europe ! We can now sit down beneath the shadow of 



^0 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

the olive, while her cities blaze, her streams run purple 
with blood, and her fields glitter with a forest of bayonets ! 
The citizens of America can this day throng the temples 
of freedom and renew their oaths of fealty to independ- 
ence, while Holland, our once sister Republic, is erased 
from the catalogue of nations; while Venice is destroyed, 
Italy ravaged, and Switzerland — the once happy, the 
once united, the once flourishing Switzerland — lies bleed- 
ing at every pore ! 

" No ambitious foe dares now invade our country. No 
standing army now endangers our liberty. Our com- 
merce, though subject in some degree to the depredations 
of belligerent powers, is extended from pole to pole ; our 
navy, though just emerging from non-existence, shall soon 
vouch for the safety of our merchantmen, and bear the 
thundjr of freedom around the ball. Fair Science, too, 
holds her gentle empire amongst us, and almost innu- 
merable altars are raised to her divinity, from Brunswick 
to Florida. Yale, Providence, and Harvard now grace 
our land ; and Dartmouth, towering majestic above the 
groves which encircle her, now inscribes her glory on the 
registers of fame ! Oxford and Cambridge, those Oriental 
stars of literature, shall now be outshone by the bright 
sun of American science, which displays his broad circum- 
ference in uneclipsed radiance. 

" Pleasing, indeed, were it here to dilate on the future 
grandeur of America ; but we forbear, and pause for a 
moment to drop the tear of affection over the graves of 
our departed warriors. Their names should be mentioned 
on every anniversary of Independence, that the youth of 
each successive generation may learn not to value life 
when held in competition with their country's safety. 

" Wooster, Montgomery, and Mercer fell bravely in 
battle, and their ashes are now entombed on the fields 



OP DANIEL WEBSTER. 21 

that witnessed their valor. Let their exertions in our 
country's cause be remembered while liberty has an ad- 
vocate and gratitude has a place in the human heart. 

" Greene, the immortal hero of the Carolinas, has since 
gone down to the grave, loaded with honors, and high in 
the estimation of his countrymen. The courageous Putnam 
has long slept with his fathers ; and Sullivan and Cilley, 
New Hampshire's veteran sons, are no more remembered 
with the living. 

" With hearts penetrated by unutterable grief, we are 
at length constrained to ask, Where is our Washington? 
where the hero who led us to victory? where the man 
who gave us freedom ? where is he who headed our feeble 
army when destruction threatened us, who came upon 
our enemies like the storms of winter and scattered them 
like leaves before the Borean blast? Where, my 
country, is thy political savior ? where, humanity, thy 
favorite son ? 

" The solemnity of this assembly, the lamentations of 
the American people, will answer, ' Alas ! he is now no 
more ! the mighty is fallen !' 

" Yes, Americans, Washington is gone ! he is now con- 
signed to dust and sleeps in ' dull, cold marble !' 

" The man who never felt a wound but when it pierced 
his country — who never groaned but when fair freedom 
bled — is now forever silent ! 

" Wrapped in the shroud of death, the dark dominions 
of the grave long since received him, and he rests in un- 
disturbed repose ! Vain were the attempt to express our 
1 0SS) — vain the attempt to describe the feelings of our 
souls ! Though months have rolled away since his spirit 
left this terrestrial orb and sought the shining worlds on 
high, yet the sad event is still remembered with increased 
sorrow. The hoary-headed patriot of '76 still tells the 



22 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

mournful story to the listening infant, till the loss of his 
country touches his heart and patriotism fires his breast. 
The aged matron still laments the loss of the man beneath 
whose banners her husband has fought or her son has 
fallen. At the name of Washington, the sympathetic 
tear still glistens in the eye of every youthful hero. Nor 
does the tender sigh yet cease to heave in the fair bosom 
of Columbia's daughters. 

' Farewell, Washington, a long farewell ! 
Thy country's tears embalm thy memory ; 
Thy virtues challenge immortality ; 
Impress'd on grateful hearts, thy name shall live 
Till dissolution's deluge drown the world.'" 

During Webster's fourth year in college he studied par- 
ticularly intellectual philosophy, ethics, and international 
law ; while at the same time he paid special attention 
to his improvement in oratory. For this noble and 
masterly art he seemed to have, from an early period, a 
very strong predilection, and at a precocious age gave 
evidence of a future distinction in it. He perused the great 
masters of ancient and modern eloquence with intense 
interest, and endeavored to imitate some of their qualities. 
At length the end of his academical career arrived. Four 
studious years had Webster spent at Dartmouth; and each 
advancing month gave proof of his constant and rapid 
progress. On commencement-day he delivered an oration 
on " Natural Science," dwelling chiefly on the then re- 
cent and remarkable discoveries of Lavoisier in chemistry. 
Why he selected so dry and abstract a theme for the sub- 
ject of a speech on such an occasion, it would be difficult to 
conjecture. It is probable that the distribution of themes 
among the other members of the graduating class may have 
been such as to render that subject desirable or even 
necessary on his part. He graduated on the 26th of 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 2o 

August, 1801, and was then prepared to look abroad upon 
the great world for a wider and more important sphere of 
activity in the future ; and we may truly add, that never 
did a stronger intellectual giant brace himself to the per- 
formance of any difficult and noble task than was ho 
when he turned his back on the cherished and beloved 
shades of Dartmouth to engage in other and far different 
scenes. 



24 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER III. 

Webster continues the Study of the Law — He becomes Principal of 
Fryeburg Academy — Mr. Fessenden — His Further Studies with Mr. 
Thompson — His Removal to Boston — Christopher Gore — The Offered 
Clerkship — Webster's Admission to the Bar — Commences Practice at 
Boscawen — His Removal to Portsmouth — His Marriage — His First 
Term in Congress. 

Daniel Webster had now resolved to devote himself to 
the legal profession as his pursuit through life; and ac- 
cordingly he entered his name as a student of law in the 
office of Thomas W. Thompson, immediately after his return 
from college to Salisbury. Yet at this time his means were 
so limited that he felt the necessity of endeavoring to 
earn, something for himself; and he therefore began to look 
about for an engagement in his old craft of school-teach 
ing, — the usual resort of necessitous youths of talent both 
then and in later times. Through the recommendation of 
a friend, he was invited to take charge of an academy then 
vacant at Fryeburg, in Maine. He commenced his labors 
in this capacity in January, 1803, and continued them 
during nine months. The great statesman subsequently 
described his entry into the scene of his future achieve- 
ments as a pedagogue, in the following language. Said he, 
"At that time I was a youth not quite twenty years of age, 
with a slender frame of less than one hundred and twenty 
pounds' weight. On deciding to go, my father gave me 
rather an ordinary horse, and after making the journey 
from Salisbury upon his back, I was to dispose of him to 
the best of my judgment, for my own benefit. Imme 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 2; 



:o 



diately on my arrival, I called upon you,* stating that I 
would sell the horse for forty dollars, and requesting your 
aid in his disposal. You replied that he was worth more, 
and gave me an obligation for a larger sum, and in a few 
iays succeeded in making a sale for me at the advanced 
price. I well remember that the purchaser lived about 
three miles from the village, and that his name was James 
Walker. I suppose he has long since deceased." On being 
told that he was still living, he said, with great heartiness : 
"Please give him my best respects." 

Among the intimate associates of Webster at Fryeburg 
was the Rev. William Fessenden, whose personal qualities 
fitted him in every respect to be the companion of so 
remarkable a youth, and whose large and well-selected 
library opened to him rare and valuable treasures of know- 
ledge. Though he was much older than the young peda- 
gogue, he found much congeniality in his society; and 
their conversations on the gravest questions of history and 
philosophy were frequent and protracted, and were doubt- 
less promotive of the improvement of both. 

When at length Webster resigned his post, he received 
a vote of thanks from the trustees, in addition to his salary, 
setting forth the industry and ability with which he had 
performed his duties. After a brief tour of travel for the 
benefit of his health, he returned to Salisbury and entered 
himself regularly as a student of law in the office of his 
former friend, Mr. Thompson. With him he remained 
during eighteen months, devoting himself most assiduously 
to the attainment of professional knowledge. Though his 
preceptor was a man of very competent attainments for 
the place which he filled, he was far below the grade of 
young Webster's aspirations ; and the latter now felt a dis- 



* Addressed to Mr. Robert Bradley, of New Hampshire. 

3 



26 THE LIFE AND TIM£S 

position to look elsewhere for a more learned and accom 
plished instructor. He naturally turned his thoughts 
toward Boston, then, as now, regarded as the capital of 
New England. Among the lawyers who at that time held 
an eminent position at that bar was the Hon. Christopher 
Gore ; and him W ebster selected as his professional tutor. 

Mr. Gore was every way worthy of this preference. He 
was a native of Boston, a graduate of Harvard University, 
and had entered upon the practice of the law soon after the 
opening of the courts which followed the proclamation of 
peace in 1783. He was appointed by Washington the first 
United States District Attorney for the District of Massa- 
chusetts, and was subsequently made a commissioner with 
William Pinckney, under the seventh article of Jay's 
treaty with England, to reside in England. After his 
return to Boston he was elected Governor of Massachusetts, 
and Senator in Congress from his native State. A man of 
such ability was a fit instructor for the aspiring and 
enlarging intellect of young Webster; and it is a circum- 
stance which is recorded greatly to his praise that he soon 
discerned the superior intellectual power which his pupil 
possessed, and admitted him to terms of familiarity and 
equality of intercourse which were rarely permitted to 
others under similar circumstances, and which conferred 
very great credit upon both of them. 

Mr. Webster remained in the office of Governor Gore 
from July, 1804, till March, 1805, assiduously pursuing his 
studies and devoting his attention more particularly to the 
higher and more abstruse branches of the law. He also 
made himself familiar with a wide range of English history; 
being persuaded, as every intelligent jurist must be, that 
law is in itself in a great measure an historical science, 
and that no one can be a master in it who is not acquainted 
with the annals of the English nation and the gradual de- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 27 

velopment and consolidation of English common law. So 
ardent and protracted were Mr. Webster's studies that his 
health began to be affected by it, and the relaxation of 
travelling became necessary for him. Accordingly, accom- 
panied by Mr. Baldwin, an intelligent citizen of Boston, he 
journeyed in the autumn of 1804 through a portion of New 
England and New York. He stopped a short time at 
Albany, and was courteously received and entertained by 
the Schuylers and Van Rensselaers, the social magnates 
of the place. He impressed all whom he met with a con- 
viction of his superior mental powers. 

Having returned to Boston, lie resumed his legal studies ; 
and soon an incident occurred which displayed in a clear 
and convincing light his stability of character and his 
resolution of purpose. His father's estate was at that 
time considerably embarrassed with debt ; and that debt 
had been chiefly incurred by his efforts to support his sons 
Daniel and Ezekiel during their collegiate studies. A 
pecuniary obligation in that day, when imprisonment for 
debt was still the disgrace and stigma of the law of the 
land, was a very serious matter ; and it was natural that 
his incumbrances should be the cause of much anxiety to 
Webster's father, and that he should use his utmost en- 
deavors to be released from the oppressive burden. In 
pursuance of this purpose, he succeeded in obtaining for 
his son Daniel the appointment of clerk to the Court of 
Common Pleas in his native county.; an office which was 
worth fifteen hundred dollars, a large portion of which 
could be appropriated to the liquidation of the father's 
debts. He immediately wrote to -Daniel, informing him of 
his* good fortune, and -requiring him to return at once to 
Salisbury to enter upon the duties of his new office. 

This proposition was a sudden blow to all the ambitious 
aspirings of the young student. To relinquish his cherished 



28 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

and chosen profession, and the hopes which were connected 
with it, would have been a sad calamity indeed ; yet he was 
affectionately attached to his father, and he would be 
willing to make almost any sacrifice to promote his inte- 
rests. A terrible struggle ensued in the mind of young 
Webster. He carefully weighed all the considerations 
which appertained to each side of the question. At length 
he started homeward, reached his father's house, and hur- 
ried into his presence. It was not long before the latter 
discovered that Daniel did not regard the proffered post 
with much approbation ; and at length he positively refused 
to abandon his profession and subside into the obscurity of 
court clerk. The old man was astonished and greatly 
offended. He used every argument to overcome the resolu- 
tion of his ambitious son ; but he reasoned in vain. At last 
Daniel, having expressed his determination to return to Bos- 
ton, poured into the lap of his astonished father the sum in 
gold which was necessary to liquidate all his debts and set 
his mind at rest. The joy produced by this unexpected 
good fortune may readily be imagined ; and Daniel then 
explained how a generous friend in Boston, to whom he 
had stated his dilemma, named Emery, had kindly offered 
to lend him the money, which offer he had thankfully 
accepted. 

After this pleasing incident, young Webster returned to 
Boston and completed his studies. He was admitted to 
the bar after a rigid examination in March, 1805. On 
making the motion to that effect, Mr. Gore added, con- 
trary to the usual custom, a eulogy on the abilities and 
deserts of his pupil. The next point to be decided was, 
where the newly-fledged lawyer should settle and com- 
mence his professional career. Many considerations 
plead in favor of his remaining in Boston. His friends 
in that city urged him to do so, and tendered him their 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 29 

influence and patronage. One firm offered him a collecting 
business amounting to thirty thousand dollars. Boston 
was a theatre admirably fitted for the future exercise of 
his talents. But other and stronger considerations in- 
duced him to bury himself in the quiet obscurity of a 
remote village of New Hampshire. He desired to be near 
his aged father ; and that motive, more than any other, 
induced him to desert the brilliant career which Boston 
offered him, and return to his native spot. He did so, and 
opened an office in the neighboring village of Boscawen, 
where his window was decorated by the unpretending sign 
of "D. Webster, Attorney" Thus, in March, 1805, when 
twenty-three years old, and after nine years of preparatory 
study, did this great man commence his public career. It 
will readily be supposed that he soon began to attract 
attention and to gain practice. His first case was tried in 
the presence of his father, who still sat upon the bench as 
an Associate Judge. It is said that his abilities as a 
speaker gained him the admiration of his contemporaries at 
the commencement of his career, and that his future emi- 
nence was immediately predicted. In two years after his 
admission to the bar, his fame extended throughout the 
whole of his native State ; and among the hundred lawyers 
who at that time lived and practised in it he was already 
regarded as one of the ablest. He was remarkable for 
the care with which he prepared his cases, as well as for 
the ability with which he tried them. In arguing disputed 
points of law and of evidence, in the examination of wit- 
nesses, and in addresses to the jury, he displayed superior 
ability. His father died a short time after he commenced 
practice ; and hence the strongest motive which attracted 
him to his obscure home was withdrawn. Accordingly, after 
a residence of two years at Boscawen, Mr. Webster re- 
moved to Portsmouth for the purpose of entering upon a 



3* 



30 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

more extended and more appropriate sphere. This was 
the largest and most important city in the State, and it 
numbered among its resident lawyers several men of 
great eminence and ability. Among these were Jeremiah 
Mason and Jeremiah Smith, who soon discovered the great 
talents of the new-comer, and accorded to him that con- 
sideration and courtesy which he deserved. Mr. Webster's 
professional prospects rapidly brightened, and he soon 
obtained a large and lucrative practice, though surrounded 
by competitors of no mean ability, and possessed of the 
advantages of patronage and local influence. 

On the 11th of June, 1808, an important event occurred 
in the life of this remarkable man. It was his marriage 
to a young lady to whom he had become attached, the 
daughter of the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, of Hopkinton, and a 
person of great beauty, intelligence and amiability. In an 
old newspaper which is long since defunct forever, named 
the Portsmouth Oracle, this event is thus very briefly 
narrated : " Married, in Salisbury, Daniel Webster, Esq., 
of this town, to Miss Grace Fletcher." Few matrimonial 
alliances have ever been contracted which were productive 
of a greater degree of domestic happiness than this. 

Very few incidents deserving of note occurred to Mr. 
Webster during the four years which elapsed from his 
marriage till the period when he entered the political 
arena. That interval was industriously filled up by his 
close attention to his professional pursuits. His reputa- 
tion as a lawyer was gradually rising higher and higher ; 
so that his services were in constant requisition, and some- 
times at distant places. He soon became the most pro- 
minent and distinguished citizen of Portsmouth ; and, as 
such, it was very natural that he should be drawn into the 
vortex of political life. He resisted this tendency for 
some time, till at length, in November, 1812, he was? 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 31 

placed in nomination for a seat in Congress, with his con- 
sent, — an honor which he had declined on several previous 
occasions. He belonged to what was then known as the 
Federal party, and the crisis which occurred at that time 
was of more than usual importance and difficulty. The 
embargo and the war with England had resulted most 
disastrously to the commerce and the interests of New 
England. Mr. Webster was nominated and voted for as 
the representative and advocate of peace and free-trade. 
As such he was elected to represent the district to which 
Portsmouth belonged.* 

According to the usual operation of law, Mr. Webster 
would not have taken his seat in Congress until the Decem- 
ber of the following year ; but the imminence of the 
crisis had induced the President, Mr. Madison, to sum- 
mon an extra session, which commenced its sitting in 
May, 1813. At the appropriate time the new repre- 
sentative began his journey toward the Federal capital. 
He took his seat for the first time in that hall which 
was destined so often afterward to be the scene of his 
magnificent displays of talent, on the 24th of May, 1813. 
The first committee of which he was appointed a mem- 
ber was that on Foreign Affairs ; and with him were 
associated such men as Calhoun, Grundy, Jackson of 

* The following interesting relic of the past will show the state of 
parties and the names of candidates as they existed at that time in that 
portion of the Confederacy : ' • 

THE WEBSTER TICKET. 



Daniel Webster 18.597 

Bradbury Cilley 18,595 

William Hale 18,583 



Samuel Smith 18,569 

Roger Voss 18,611 

Jeduthun Wilcox 18,478 



OPPOSITION TICKET. 



John F. Parrott 16,051 

John H.Harper 15,985 

David L. Morrill 16,060 

Samuel Dinsmoor 15,996 



Jesse Johnson 15,927 

Jpsiah Butler 15,761 

Number of Scattering ,. 784 



32 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

Virginia, and Fish of New York. Nor did he long remain 
a silent member of the House. On the 10th of June, 
after occupying his seat about two weeks, he rose and 
offered a series of resolutions, which sifted the matter of 
the war, then under deliberation, to the bottom. As these 
resolutions possess more than ordinary interest as the 
first public effort of Mr. Webster in the Congress of his 
country, we will here insert them : 

" Resolved, That the President of the United States be 
requested to inform this House, unless the public interest 
should, in his opinion, forbid such communication, when, 
by whom, and in what manner the first intelligence was 
given to this Government of the decree of the Govern- 
ment of France, bearing date the 28th of April, 1811, 
and purporting to be a definite repeal of the decrees of 
Berlin and Milan. 

" Resolved, That the President of the United States be 
requested to inform this House whether Mr. Russell, late 
OhargS a" Affaires of the United States at the Court of 
France, hath ever admitted or denied to his Government 
the correctness of the declaration of the Duke of Bassano 
to Mr. Barlow, the late minister of the United States at 
that court, as stated in Mr. Barlow's letter of the 12th of 
May, 1812, to the Secretary of State, that the said decree 
of April 28th, 1811, had been communicated to his (Mr. 
Barlow's) predecessor there ; and to lay before this House 
any correspondence with Mr. Russell relative to that sub- 
ject which it may not be improper to communicate ; and 
also any correspondence between Mr. Barlow and Mr. 
Russell on that subject, which may be in the possession of 
the Department of State. 

" Resolved, That the President of the United States 
be requested to inform this House whether the Minister 
of France near the United States ever informed this 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 38 



Government of the existence of the said decree of the 
28th of April, 1811, and to lay before the House any 
correspondence that may have taken place with the said 
Minister relative thereto, which the President may not 
think improper to be communicated. 

" Resolved, That the President of the United States be 
requested to communicate to this House any other in- 
formation which may be in his possession, and which he 
may not deem injurious to the public interest to disclose, 
relative to the said decree of the 28th of April, 1811, 
and tending to show at what time, by whom, and in what 
manner the said decree was first made known to this 
Government or to any of its representatives or agents. 

" Resolved, That the President be requested, in case 
the fact be that the first information of the existence of 
said decree of the 28th of April, 1811, ever received by 
this Government or any of its ministers or agents, was 
that communicated in May, 1812, by the Duke of Bassano, 
to Mr. Barlow, and by him to his Government, as men- 
tioned in his letter to the Secretary of State, of May 12, 
1812, and the accompanying papers, to inform this House 
whether the Government of the United States hath ever 
received from that of France any explanation of the 
reasons of that decree being concealed from this Govern- 
ment and its Ministers for so long a time after its date ; 
and, if such explanation has been asked by this Govern- 
ment, and has been omitted to be given by that of France, 
whether this Government has made any remonstrance, or 
expressed any dissatisfaction, to the Government of 
France, at such concealment." 

These resolutions Mr. Webster supported by an argu- 
ment of much ability. It was his maiden speech in Con- 
gress. It impressed all who heard it with a high estimate 
of his talents ; and among the rest was Chief-Justice 



34 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

Marshall, who declared, in a letter subsequently written to 
a friend, " that though he was then unacquainted with 
Mr. Webster, he readily discerned from that speech that 
he was a very able man, and would become one of the first 
statesmen in America, and perhaps the very first." 

So well had Mr. Webster acquitted himself during his 
first term of office as representative in Congress, that, 
after its conclusion, in August, 1814, he was re-elected 
from his former district by an immense majority. On his 
return to the national councils, a very different state of 
affairs existed, and called for a different species of legisla- 
tion. In December, 1814, peace with England was pro- 
claimed ; and thenceforth the internal and commercial 
affairs of the country demanded the attention of Congress. 
The currency was in a state of miserable derangement, 
and the Government proposed the establishment of a 
United States Bank as the most efficient remedy for the 
existing evils. The charter of the first United States 
Bank had expired several years prior to this date. The 
constitutionality of such an institution was one of the 
chief points under discussion. Mr. Madison directed his 
Secretary of State, Mr. Dallas, to send a bill to the House 
proposing to erect a new bank with a capital of fifty 
millions, forty-five millions of which should consist of 
the public stocks and five millions of specie.'" It was not 
to be a specie-paying bank, and was to lend the Govern- 
ment thirty millions at any time in payment for the im- 
munities which were thus conferred upon it. • Mr. \\ ebster 
was not opposed to a United States Bank in the abstract ; 
but he condemned an institution which should be based en- 
tirely upon such questionable principles. He denounced it 
as a mere paper-money and flimsy contrivance, calculated to 
rob the community and to embarrass both the Government 
and the currency. So lid he and some other repre- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. X r ) 

sentatives oppose the passage of the bill, that it was lost as 
originally reported ; but, being afterward reconsidered, 
some important amendments were introduced into it and 
then adopted. It was immediately submitted to the Pre- 
sident for his approval ; but the latter was not disposed 
thus to abandon his first position, and he returned it with 
his objections. The period for the adjournment of Con- 
gress supervened at this crisis ; and the subject was post- 
poned until a subsequent occasion, when it again assumed 
a prominent position in the deliberations of Congress and 
in the interest of the nation. 



36 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER IV. 

Calamity at Portsmouth — Webster's Second Term in Congress — The 
Tariff — Webster's Opposition to it — His Removal to Boston — His Pro- 
fessional Distinction — Case of Kenniston vs. Goodridge — Mr. Webster 
declines Political Honors — Continues his Professional Labors — Serves 
in the Convention to Revise the Constitution of Massachusetts — Cele- 
brated Dartmouth College Case — Signal Display of Mr. Webster's 
Abilities. 

In December, 1813, Mr. Webster suffered a heavy loss 
in the burning of his house at Portsmouth, together with 
his library and all his private papers. This calamity em- 
barrassed him in several ways. It was not merely a 
pecuniary loss, but it occasioned him great inconvenience 
by being deprived of many important and valuable memo- 
randa, w T hich contained the fruits of long study and 
laborious research both in regard to legal and literary 
subjects. But a mind as powerful as his could not be 
disheartened by any misfortune, however great ; and he 
resumed his professional pursuits with undiminished ardor 
and success. 

The interval between the thirteenth and the fourteenth 
Congress, from March to December, 1815, was actively em- 
ployed by Mr. Webster. When Congress reassembled, he 
took his place as a representative from New Hampshire. 
Already had he made his mark and acquired an eminence 
in the national legislature ; and his conduct and policy 
were watched with interest. The first subject of import- 
ance which came up for discussion was the question of 
revenue and taxation. The revenues of the Federal 



01'' L a:\1EL WEBSTER. 87 

Government were then in an embarrassed condition. The 
expenses of the recent war with England had loaded the 
country with heavy debts ; and a protective tariff was 
proposed by the war-party for the purpose of increasing 
the revenue, and for promoting the interests of those 
domestic manufactures which had commenced to exist and 
to flourish in certain portions of the Confederacy. The 
interests of New England at that period were chiefly of a 
commercial and maritime nature ; and a high tariff was 
consequently repugnant to the feelings and the welfare of 
her people. Mr. Webster, therefore, as one of her repre- 
sentatives in Congress, felt it to be his duty to oppose a 
tariff at that time. He admitted the constitutionality of 
the measure, though he denied its expediency. But the 
Middle and Southern States combined their resources 
together, and it was thereby triumphantly carried. 

The next measure of importance which occupied the at- 
tention of Congress was the establishment of the United 
States Bank. Mr. Webster again opposed the creation of 
an institution which should be closely connected with the 
Government. He contended that both should be entirely 
independent of each other. He defended his opinions 
with great logical force and ability in several speeches 
made on the occasion ; but his eflbrts were again unsuccess- 
ful, and the bank was established. He was more fortunate 
in his next movement. He offered resolutions in the 
House the purport of which was to ordain, in substance, 
that all debts due to the Federal Government in all the 
Beveral States should be liquidated only in gold or silver, 
or in the notes of such banks as paid specie at their 
counters on demand. Previous to this period, the revenues 
collected in the different States had been paid in the bills 
if the banks of those States respectively. Some States 

therefore whose notes constantly bore a par value — such, for 

4 



38 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

instance, as those of New England — paid the full amount 
of the sums due to the Federal treasury ; whereas other 
States, whose banks were at a heavy discount, defrauded 
the Government sometimes as much as twenty-five per 
cent, by paying their dues in the notes of the banks of 
those States, which did not bear par value. The resolu- 
tions offered by Mr. Webster, while they were perfectly just 
and equitable in the abstract, were also highly favorable 
to the interests of New England, and as such they greatly 
increased his popularity and influence with his constituents. 
At the termination of this session of Congress Mr. 
Webster returned home covered with laurels. He now 
determined to seek a more enlarged arena for his future 
professional labors ; and he resolved to remove either to 
Boston or Albany, in both of which places he had many 
influential friends. After some deliberations, he selected 
Boston as his future home, and in August, 1816, he removed 
his family thither. He had, indeed, another session to 
serve in Congress as representative for New Hampshire ; 
but the events of that session were unimportant, and 
nothing occurred in it in reference to Mr. Webster which 
needs to be recapitulated in this narration of his history. 
At its close he refused all further political honors, and 
devoted himself to his professional duties in Boston- 
Great as were his talents, it was necessary even for him 
to exert himself, in order to acquire a lucrative and emi- 
nent position at such a bar as the capital of New England 
then possessed; and during some years Mr. Webster devoted 
himself assiduously to the duties of his profession. He 
rapidly rose to the first place at the bar of his adopted 
State. As may readily be supposed, his natural gifts and 
his acquired powers made him facile princeps among a 
host of able and distinguished advocates. Among his 
rivals there were indeed men who were his equals, perhaps 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. Z\) 

his superiors, in one single gift or intellectual accomplish- 
ment. Some may have had more technical legal learning, 
others more experience at the bar, and more craft. But 
he was unequalled for a rare and admirable combination 
of great gifts, which constituted in him a stupendous and 
unequalled whole. 

Mr. Webster's practice soon became extensive and profit- 
able. He entered into both civil and criminal causes. Some 
of these were of the first importance, and of general interest 
throughout the community. The ability, the eloquence, 
the learning and the success with which he conducted 
them won for him a wide reputation as an advocate, and 
added the laurels of the forum to the plaudits of the 
Senate, which he already enjoyed. One of these law-suits 
deserves to be described more minutely, from the degree 
of general attention which it attracted at the time. It 
was the case of the Kennistons vs. Goodridge. The 
latter was a respectable young man who resided at Bangor 
in Maine. On his way to Boston with a considerable sum 
of money, he was reported to have been robbed. Before 
commencing his journey, he procured a pair of pistols ; 
and upon each piece of money which he carried he had 
made a private mark, by which he could readily identify 
it again. Mr. Marston of Newburyport, who was asso- 
ciated with Mr. Webster in the trial, thus describes the 
succeeding incidents of the case : 

" When he arrived at Exeter, New Hampshire, he pro- 
cured nine balls, and then, for the first time, made no 
secret of having pistols. At this place he left his sleigh, 
obtained a saddle, and started for Newburyport on horse- 
back, late in the afternoon of the 19th of December. 
1817, passing the Essex Merrimack bridge a few minutes 
before nine o'clock. On the brow of the hill, a short dis- 
tance from the bridge, is the place of the robbery, in full 



40 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

view of several houses, on a great thoroughfare, where 
people are constantly passing, and where the mail-coach 
and two wagons were known to have passed within a few 
minutes of the time of the alleged robbery. 

" The major's story was as follows : * Three men sud- 
denly appeared before him, one of whom seized the bridle 
of the horse, presented a pistol, and demanded his money. 
The major, pretending to be getting his money, seized a 
pistol from his portmanteau with his right hand, grasped 
the ruffian at the horse's head with his left, and both dis- 
charged their pistols at the same instant, the ball of his 
adversary passing through the major's hand. The three 
robbers then pulled him from his horse, dragged him over 
the frozen ground, and over the fence, beating him till he 
was senseless, and robbed him of about seventeen hundred 
dollars in gold and paper money, and left him with his 
gold watch and all his papers in the field. Recovering in 
about half an hour, he went back to the bridge, passed 
several houses without calling, and, at the toll-house, ac- 
cused the first person he met with — a female — of robbing 
him ; and so continued charging various people about him 
with the robbery. After some time, a lantern was pro- 
cured, and himself with others started for the place of 
the robbery, where were found his watch, papers, pen- 
knife, and other articles. He represented to them that 
the robbers had bruised his head, stamped upon his breast, 
and stabbed him in several places. Physicians were 
called ; and he appeared to be insane. The next day he 
went to Newburyport, and was confined to his bed for 
several weeks. A reward of three hundred dollars, soon 
increased by voluntary subscriptions to one thousand, was 
offered for the detection of the robbers and the recovery 
of the money. As soon as the major was able to leave 
his bed, he went to Danvers, consulted his friends there ; 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 41 

and the result of his deliberations and inquiries was the 
arrest of the Kennistons, who were found in an obscure 
part of the town of New Market, New Hampshire, their 
place of residence. In their house the major found some 
pieces of his marked gold deposited under a pork-barrel 
in the cellar. He also found there a ten-dollar note, which 
he identified as his own. 

" This was proof indeed of- the facts of the robbery, 
which seemed for a time effectually fastened on the Ken- 
nistons. But one circumstance after another came to 
light in regard to the transaction, until some people felt 
doubts creeping over their minds as to the truthfulness of 
the major's story. These were few in number, it is true ; 
but such an intimation, coming from any respectable 
source, was enough to startle the major and his friends 
from their apathy and incite them to renewed efforts to 
probe this dark and mysterious transaction to its depths. 
The result was to search the house of Mr. Pearson, the 
toll-gatherer at the bridge; but here nothing was found. 
They then procured the services of an old conjurer of 
Danvers, Swimmmgton by name, and, under his direction, 
with witch-hazel and metallic rods, renewed their search 
upon Mr. Pearson's premises, this time discovering the 
major's gold and paper wrappers. Mr. Pearson was 
arrested, carried to Newburyport, examined before two 
magistrates, and discharged at once. This operation 
proved most unpropitious to the major's plans. So great 
was the indignation of Mr. Pearson's friends — for he was 
a respectable man — that they lost all control over them- 
selves, and, after the examination, detaching the horses 
from the sleigh, they drew him home themselves. 

" It now became more necessary than ever that some 
one should be found who might be connected with the 
Kennistons in the robbery ; for the circumstances in re- 



4* 



42 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

lation to these men were such that the public could not 
believe that they had received a portion of the spoil. The 
next step, therefore, was to arrest one Taber of Boston, 
who had formerly lived in Portland, and whom Goodridge 
said he had seen at Alfred on his way up, and from whom 
he pretended to have obtained information in regard to 
the Kennistons. In Taber's house were found a number 
of the marked wrappers which the major had put round 
his gold before leaving home. Taber was likewise brought 
to Newburyport, examined, and bound over for trial with 
the Kennistons. 

" Notwithstanding all this accumulation of evidence, 
the public were not satisfied. It seemed to be necessary 
that somebody living near the bridge should be connected 
with the transaction ; and Mr. Joseph Jackman was 
fastened upon as that unfortunate man, he having left 
Newbury for New York very soon after the alleged rob- 
bery. Thither Goodridge immediately proceeded, found 
Jackman, who was living then with his brother, searched 
the house, and in the garret, among some old rubbish, 
found a large number of his marked wrappers ! The 
major's touch was magical, and underneath his fingers 
gold and bank-notes grew in plenty. Jackman was ar- 
rested and lodged in 'the Tombs,' while Goodridge re- 
turned to Boston, got a requisition from the governor, 
and had him brought in irons to Ipswich, where the 
supreme judicial court was then in session. The grand 
jury had risen ; but he was examined before a magistrate, 
and ordered to recognize to appear at the next term, 
which he did, and was discharged. An indictment had 
been found against the Kennistons and Taber ; and the 
time of trial had arrived. Notwithstanding the doubts 
and suspicions which had been excited by the conduct 
of Goodridge, yet the evidence against the Kennistons, 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 43 

Taber and Jackman was so overwhelming, that almost 
every one felt sure of their conviction. To such an ex- 
tent did this opinion prevail, that no member of the Essex 
bar was willing to undertake their defence. Under these 
circumstances, two or three individuals, who had been 
early convinced that the major's stories were false from 
beginning to end, determined, the day before the trial, to 
send to Suffolk for counsel. Mr. Webster had just then 
removed to Boston from Portsmouth. His services were 
engaged ; and, late in the night preceding the day of trial, 
he arrived at Ipswich, having had no opportunity to exa- 
mine the witnesses, and but little time for consultation. 
The indictment against Taber was nol prossed, and the 
trial of the Kennistons was commenced. Mr. Webster, 
as senior counsel, conducted the defence with a degree of 
ability, boldness, tact and legal learning which had rarely 
been witnessed in Essex county ; and, notwithstanding the 
accumulated mass of evidence against the Kennistons, they 
were acquitted. 

" At the next term of the supreme judicial court, Jack- 
man was indicted and tried ; but the jury did not agree, 
though the Hon. William Prescott had been employed to 
assist the prosecuting officer. Jackman was again tried 
at the next term of the court, and this time defended by 
Mr. Webster, and acquitted. 

" The criminal prosecutions growing out of this affair 
being thus ended, Mr. Pearson commenced an action 
against Goodridge for malicious prosecution, laying his 
damages at two thousand dollars, which sum the jury 
awarded him without leaving their seats. In this case 
also Mr. Webster was counsel for the plaintiff; and time 
had brought forth so many new facts, and the evidence 
was so clear and overwhelming against Goodridge, that 
the public became satisfied that he was his own robber ! 



44 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

He was surrendered by his bail, committed to jail, took 
the poor debtors' oath, and soon after left the common- 
wealth, and has not resided here since. The public rarely 
stop to consider how much they are indebted to men like 
Webster for laying bare the villainy of such a deep-laid 
and diabolical plot. But for him, there is no doubt the 
Kennistons and Jackman would have been convicted of 
highway-robbery, though innocent." 

After Mr. Webster had resided about two years in 
Boston, he was urged by his friends to become a candidate 
for Congress for the third time. This offer he positively 
declined ; and a short time afterward when his admirers 
wished to put forward his name before the Legislature 
of Massachusetts as candidate for election to the United 
States Senate, he returned the same answer, and again 
declined the proffered honor. The truth was, that both 
his interests and his inclination bound him to his pro- 
fession, and he would not permit himself to be diverted 
at that time from its duties even by the prospect of the 
highest political promotion. Seven years were thus spent 
by Mr. Webster in professional pursuits before he again 
allowed himself to be involved in the distracting strife of 
politics, excepting in capacities or relations which were to 
him matters of small moment. Thus, he served as one of 
the Presidential electors of Massachusetts at the re-elec- 
tion of Mr. Monroe ; and he was also a delegate to the 
convention which revised the Constitution of the Common- 
wealth in 1821. 

During the period in which Mr. Webster devoted himself 
exclusively to his legal practice in Boston, he was em- 
ployed in many cases of great interest and of the highest 
consequence, both in Boston and in the Supreme Court 
of the United States. Our limits forbid us to enumerate 
many of these ; and we will confine ourselves to but one, 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 45 

— the memorable Dartmouth College case against Wood- 
ward. In the year 1769 a charter had been obtained 
from the Legislature creating and establishing the corpora- 
tion of the college. It was designated therein as a charity- 
school, which had originally been founded by Dr. Eleazer 
Wheelock, and supported by funds which he had collected, 
or caused to be collected, both in England and America. 
Subsequently the Legislature of New Hampshire passed 
several acts which conflicted with some of the provisions of 
the original charter; and the question to be determined 
by the Supreme Court in that trial was, whether the acts 
of the Legislature, which virtually destroyed the original 
corporation, which was to consist of but twelve members 
and no more, and which created in effect a new and a dif- 
ferent corporation, were binding upon the old corporation 
without their consent ; if, moreover, those acts were not 
contrary to the Constitution of the United States. The 
cause was tried in the first instance in the court of Rock- 
ingham county, and judgment was given in favor of the 
constitutionality and validity of the acts of the Legisla- 
ture in question. A writ of error was sued out by the 
original plaintiffs, and the cause removed to the Supreme 
Federal Court at Washington. The case was finally 
argued on the 10th of March, 1818, before a full bench. 
Messrs. Webster and Hopkinson represented the plaintiffs 
in error, Messrs. Holmes and Wirt the defendant in error. 
Able as were the antagonists of Mr. Webster in this cele- 
brated trial, his abilities transcended them all. After 
lengthy and elaborate arguments on both sides, the court 
decided in favor of the plaintiffs, — the College of Dart- 
mouth, — and by a final decree declared the acts of the 
Legislature to have been invalid, and reversed the judg- 
ment of the court below. 

As this was one of the most signal triumphs of Mr, 



46 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

Webster's intellect, it may be proper to introduce here an 
extract from the masterly argument which he delivered on 
the occasion. Among his many great forensic efforts, none 
exhibited more clearly and imposingly the grasp, clearness 
and power of his mind in dealing with the most intricate 
and profound principles which are involved in one of the 
most abstruse and recondite of sciences. After having 
argued the two fundamental points that the acts of the 
Legislature were in violation of common right and the Con- 
stitution of New Hampshire, and that they were repugnant 
to the Federal Constitution, which forbids all ex post facto 
laws, he concluded his speech as follows : 

" There are in this case all the essential constituent 
parts of a contract. There is something to be contracted 
about ; there are parties ; and there are plain terms in which 
the agreement of the parties on the subject of the contract 
is expressed. There are mutual considerations and induce- 
ments. The charter recites that the founder, on his part, 
has agreed to establish his seminary in New Hampshire, 
and to enlarge it beyond its original design, among other 
things, for the benefit of that province ; and thereupon a 
charter is given to him and his associates, designated by 
himself, promising and assuring to them, under the plighted 
faith of this State, the right of governing the college and 
administering its concerns in the manner provided in the 
charter. There is a complete and perfect grant to them 
of all the power of superintendence, visitation and govern- 
ment. Is not this a contract ? If lands or money had 
been granted to him and his associates for the same pur- 
poses, such grant could not be rescinded. And is there 
any difference, in legal contemplation, between a grant of 
corporate franchises and a grant of tangible property ? 
No such difference is recognised in any decided case, nor 
does it exist in the common apprehension of mankind. 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 4? 

" It is, therefore, contended that this case falls within 
the true meaning of this provision of the Constitution, as 
expounded in the decisions of this court ; that the charter 
of 1769 is a contract, a stipulation or agreement, mutual 
in its considerations, express and formal in its terms and 
of a most binding and solemn nature. That the acts in 
question impair this contract has already been sufficiently 
shown. They repeal and abrogate its most essential parts. 

"A single observation may not be improper on the 
opinion of the court of New Hampshire, which has been 
published. The learned judges who delivered that opinion 
have viewed this question in a very different light from 
that in which the plaintiffs have endeavored to exhibit it. 
After some general remarks, they assume that this college 
is a public corporation ; and on this basis their judgment 
rests. Whether all colleges are not regarded as private and 
eleemosynary corporations by all law-writers and all judi- 
cial decisions ; whether this college was not founded by 
Dr. Wheelock ; whether the charter was not granted at 
his request, the better to execute a trust which he had 
already created; whether he and his associates did not 
become visitors by the charter ; and whether Dartmouth 
College be not, therefore, in the strictest sense, a private 
charity, are questions which the learned judges do not 
appear to have discussed. 

"It is admitted in that opinion that, if it be a private 
eorporation, its rights stand on the same ground as those 
of an individual. The great question, therefore, to be 
decided, is, To which class of corporations do colleges thus 
founded belong? And the plaintiffs have endeavored to 
satisfy the court that, according to the well-settled prin- 
ciples and uniform decisions of law, they are private, 
eleemosynary corporations. 

"Much has heretofore been said on the necessity of 



48 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

admitting such a power in the Legislature as has been as- 
sumed in this case. Many cases of possible evil have been 
imagined, which might otherwise be without remedy. 
Abuses, it is contended, might arise in the management of 
such institutions, which the ordinary courts of law would 
be unable to correct. But this is only another instance of 
that habit of supposing extreme cases, and then of rea- 
soning from them, which is the constant refuge of those 
who are obliged to defend a cause which upon its merits 
is indefensible. It would be sufficient to say in answer 
that it is not pretended that there was here any such case 
of necessity. But a still more satisfactory answer is, that 
the apprehension of danger is groundless, and therefore 
the whole argument fails. Experience has not taught us 
that there is danger of great evils or of great inconvenience 
from this source. Hitherto, neither in our own country 
nor elsewhere have such cases of necessity occurred. The 
judicial establishments of the State are presumed to be 
competent to prevent abuses and violations of trust in 
cases of this kind, as well as in all others. If they be not, 
they are imperfect, and their amendment would be a most 
proper subject for legislative wisdom. Under the govern- 
ment and protection of the general laws of the land, these 
institutions have always been found safe, as well as useful. 
They go on with the progress of society, accommodating 
themselves easily, without sudden change or violence, to 
the alterations which take place in its condition, and in the 
knowledge, the habits and pursuits of men. The English 
colleges were founded in Catholic ages. Their religion 
was reformed with the general reformation of the nation, 
and they are suited perfectly well to the purpose of edu- 
cating the Protestant youth of modern times. Dartmouth 
College was established under a charter granted by the 
provincial Government; but a better constitution for a 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 49 

college, or one more adapted to the condition of things 
under the present Government, in all material respects, 
could not now be framed. Nothing in it was found to 
need alteration at the Revolution. The wise men of that 
day saw in it one of the best hopes of future times, and 
commended it as it was, with parental care, to the protec- 
tion and guardianship of the Government of the State. A 
charter of more liberal sentiments, of wiser provisions, 
drawn with more care or in a better spirit, could not be 
expected at any time or from any source. The college 
needed no change in its organization or government. That 
which it did need was the kindness, the patronage, the 
bounty, of the Legislature ; not a mock elevation to the 
character of a university, without the solid benefit of a 
shilling's donation to sustain the character; not the 
swelling and empty authority of establishing institutes and 
other colleges. This unsubstantial pageantry would seem 
to have been in derision of the scanty endowment and 
limited means of an unobtrusive, but useful and growing, 
seminary. Least of all was there a necessity, or pretence 
of necessity, to infringe its legal rights, violate its fran- 
chises and privileges, and pour upon it these overwhelming 
streams of litigation. » 

"But this argument from necessity would equally 
apply in all other cases. If it be well founded, it would 
prove that, whenever any inconvenience or evil is experi- 
enced from the restrictions imposed on the Legislature by 
the Constitution, these restrictions ought to be disregarded. 
It is enough to say that the people have thought otherwise. 
They have most wisely chosen to take the risk of occasional 
inconvenience from the want of power, in order that there 
might be a settled limit to its exercise and a permanent 
security against its abuse. They have imposed prohibi- 
tions and restraints ; and they have not rendered these 

5 



50 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

altogether vain and nugatory by conferring the power of 
dispensation. If inconvenience should arise which the 
Legislature cannot remedy under the power conferred upon 
it, it is not answerable for such inconvenience. That 
which it cannot do within the limits prescribed to it, it 
cannot do at all. No Legislature in this country is able — 
and may the time never come when it shall be able ! — to 
apply to itself the memorable expression of a Roman 
pontiff: 'Licet hoc DE jure non possumus, volumus 
tamen de plenitudine potestatis.' 

" The case before the court is not of ordinary import- 
ance, nor of every-day occurrence. It affects not this 
college only, but every college, and all the literary institu- 
tions, of the country. They have flourished hitherto, and 
have become in a high degree respectable and useful to 
the community. They have all a common principle of ex- 
istence, — the inviolability of their charters. It will be a 
dangerous, a most dangerous experiment, to hold these 
institutions subject to the rise and fall of popular parties 
and the fluctuations of political opinions. If the franchise 
may be at any time taken away or impaired, the property 
also may be taken away, or its use perverted. Benefactors 
will have no certainty of effecting the object of their 
bounty ; and learned men will be deterred from devoting 
themselves to the service of such institutions, from the 
precarious title of their offices. Colleges and halls will be 
deserted by all better spirits, and become a theatre for the 
contentions of politics. Party and faction will be cherished 
in the places consecrated to piety and learning. These 
consequences are neither remote nor possible only. They 
are certain and immediate. 

" When the court in North Carolina declared the law of 
the State, which repealed a grant to its university, uncon- 
stitutional and void, the Legislature had the candor and the 



OF DANIEL WEBSTEfl. 51 

wisdom to repeal the law. This example, so honorable to 
the State which exhibited it, is most fit to be followed on 
this occasion. And there is good reason to hope that a 
State which has hitherto been so much distinguished for 
temperate counsels, cautious legislation, and regard to law, 
will not fail to adopt a course which will accord with her 
highest and best interests, and in no small degree elevate 
her reputation." 



5£ THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER V. 

Mr. Webster again elected to Congress — Debates in Congress respecting 
Greece — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Occasion — Extract from it — His 
Opposition to the Tariff — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Laying of 
Bunker Hill Monument — Chairman of the Judiciary Committee — Re- 
form in the U. S. Supreme Court — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Death 
of John Adams — He is elected Senator from Massachusetts in the 
Twentieth Congress. 

In December, 1823, Mr. Webster again took his seat in 
the House of Representatives at Washington. He had 
been elected by a very large majority of the citizens of 
Boston, in consequence of the high fame which he had 
attained as a statesman, and the confidence which he had 
secured in their personal esteem. A committee composed 
of Thomas Perkins, William Sturgis, and other distin- 
guished residents of Boston, called upon him to inform him 
of his nomination ; and to their solicitations that he should 
run as a candidate, he yielded. His opponent in the can- 
vass was Jesse Putnam. When Congress convened Henry 
Clay was again chosen Speaker ; and many familiar faces 
welcomed Mr. Webster to the scene of his former brilliant 
displays of eloquence and statesmanship. 

The first subject of general interest which engaged 
the attention of the House was the deadly conflict which 
was at that time raging in Greece between the heroic de- 
fenders of Grecian liberty and the fierce and savage 
myrmidons of the Turkish despot. The whole civilized 
world felt a deep interest in that memorable struggle. 
England, France, Germany and Poland had experienced 
the thrilling effect of a spectacle in which, on the one 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 53 

hand, the noblest attributes of humanity — its heroism, its 
fortitude, its love of country, its patriotic pride, and its 
regard for ancestral glory — had all been aroused into 
vigorous and sublime activity; while on the other hand, 
the most terrible and detestable qualities of human nature 
had been enlisted to crush them, — its cruelty, its ferocity, its 
selfishness, its avarice, and its love of carnage and blood. 
A powerful nation possessing the most formidable and 
effective resources seemed about to crush the liberties, and 
even to obliterate the very existence, of a small and insig- 
nificant state, — a state glorious indeed in the memories 
and achievements of the past, but totally incapable, with- 
out assistance from others, of resisting the colossal power 
which seemed resolved upon its subjugation and ruin. 

It is not singular that such a contest should interest all 
intelligent and generous minds. The Senate of Calamita 
had sent appeals for assistance to several of the countries 
of Europe; and one of a similar character had reached 
this country. Intense sympathy for the battling heroes 
inspired thousands of bosoms ; and Mr. Monroe, in his last 
annual message, adverted to the theme, and expressed the 
hope that Greece, so long trodden beneath the feet of 
tyrants, might soon resume her place among the nations, 
and that no sentiment of selfishness or of fear should pre- 
vent the friends of liberty throughout the world from 
rendering the patriots their assistance. On the 8th of 
December Mr. Webster introduced a resolution in the 
House to the effect that "provision ought to be made by 
law for defraying the expense of an agent or commissioner 
to Greece, whenever the President should deem it expe- 
dient to make such an appointment." On the 19th of 
January, 1824, the House resolved itself into a committee 
of the whole, and the resolution was taken up for discussion. 

Then it was that Mr. Webster delivered one of his most 

6* 



54 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

eloquent and memorable orations. He dwelt upon the 
principle already advocated by Mr. Monroe, and known at 
that time, and ever since, as one of his peculiar views, — that 
the policy of this country should in general be a peaceful 
one, and that it should retain the attitude under all cir- 
cumstances of non-intervention in the affairs of foreign 
nations. He argued that the case of Greece and her 
struggle for liberty formed a necessary exception to this 
salutary rule. But it would be impossible to convey to the 
reader an idea of the eloquence and power which marked 
this celebrated oration by any description ; we will there- 
fore make an extract from it, selecting for that purpose its 
most striking and remarkable portion : 

"It was about this time — that is to say, at the com- 
mencement of 1821 — that the revolution burst out in various 
parts of Greece and the isles. Circumstances, certainly, 
were not unfavorable, as one portion of the Turkish army 
was employed in the war against Ali Pacha, in Albania, 
and another part in the provinces north of the Danube. 
The Greeks soon possessed themselves of the open country 
of the Morea, and drove their enemy into the fortresses. 
Of these, that of Tripolitza, with the city, fell into the 
hands of the Greeks in the course of the summer. Having, 
after these first movements, obtained time to breathe, it 
became, of course, an early object to establish a govern- 
ment. For this purpose, delegates of the people assembled, 
under that name which describes the assembly in which we 
ourselves sit, that name which * freed the Atlantic,' a Con- 
gress. A writer who undertakes to render to the civilized 
world that service which was once performed by Edmund 
Burke, I mean the compiler of the English Annual Re- 
gister, asks by what authority this assembly could call 
itself a congress. Simply, sir, by the same authority by 
which the people of the United States have given the same 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 55 

name to their own legislature. We, at least, should be 
naturally inclined to think, not only as far as names, but 
things, also, arfc concerned, that the Greeks could hardly 
have begun their revolution under better auspices ; sine:, 
they have endeavored to render applicable to themselves 
the general principles of our form of government, as well 
as its name. This constitution went into operation at the 
commencement of the next year. In the mean time, the 
war with Ali Pacha was ended, he having surrendered, and 
being afterward assassinated, by an instance of treachery 
and perfidy which, if it had happened elsewhere than 
under the government of the Turks, would have deserved 
notice. The negotiation with Russia, too, took a turn 
unfavorable to the Greeks. The great point upon which 
Russia insisted, besides the abandonment of the measure of 
searching vessels bound to the Black Sea, was, that the 
Porte should withdraw its armies from the neighborhood 
of the Russian frontiers ; and the immediate consequence 
of this, when effected, was to add so much more to the 
disposable force ready to be employed against the Greeks. 
These events seemed to have left the whole force of the 
Turkish empire, at the commencement of 1822, in a con- 
dition to be employed against the Greek rebellion ; and, 
accordingly, very many anticipated the immediate destruc- 
tion of their cause. The event, however, was ordered 
otherwise. Where the greatest effort was made, it was met 
and defeated. Entering the Morea with an army which 
seemed capable of bearing down all resistance, the Turks 
were nevertheless defeated and driven back, and pursued 
beyond the isthmus, within which, as far as ;it appears, 
from that time to the present, they have not been able to 
set their foot. 

" It was in April of this year that the destruction of 
Scio took place. That island, a sort of appanage of the 



56 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

Sultana mother, enjoyed many privileges peculiar to itself. 
In a population of 130,000 or 140,000, it had not more 
than 2000 or 3000 Turks : indeed, by some accounts, not 
near as many. The absence of these ruffian masters had 
in some degree allowed opportunity for the promotion of 
knowledge, the accumulation of wealth and the general 
cultivation of society. Here was the seat of modern Greek 
literature-; here were libraries, printing-presses and other 
establishments, which indicate some advancement in refine- 
ment and knowledge. Certain of the inhabitants of Samos, 
it would seem, envious of this comparative happiness of 
Scio, *anded upon the island in an irregular multitude, for 
the purpose of compelling its inhabitants to make common 
cause with their countrymen against their oppressors. 
These, being joined by the peasantry, marched to the city 
and drove the Turks into the castle. The Turkish fleet, 
lately reinforced from Egypt, happened to be in the neigh- 
boring seas, and, learning these events, landed a force on 
the island of fifteen thousand men. There was nothing to 
resist such an army. These troops immediately entered 
the city, and began an indiscriminate massacre. The city 
was fired ; and in four days the fire and sword of the Turk 
rendered the beautiful Scio a clotted mass of blood and 
ashes. The details are too shocking to be recited. Forty 
thousand women and children, unhappily saved from the 
general destruction, w T ere afterward sold in the market of 
Smyrna, and sent off into distant and hopeless servitude. 
Even on the wharves of our own cities, it has been said, 
have been sold the utensils of those hearths which now 
exist no longer. Of the whole population which I have 
mentioned, not above nine hundred persons were left living 
upon the island. I will only repeat, sir, that these tragical 
scenes were as fully known at the Congress of Verona as 
they are now known to us ; and it is not too much to call 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 57 

on the powers that constituted that congress, in the name 
of conscience and in the name of humanity, to tell us if 
there he nothing even in these unparalleled excesses of 
Turkish barbarity, to excite a sentiment of compassion ; 
nothing which they regard as so objectionable as even the 
very idea of popular resistance to power. 

" The events of the year which has just passed by, as 
far as they have become known to us, have been even more 
favorable to the Greeks than those of the year preceding. 
I omit all details, as being as well known to others as to 
myself. Suffice it to say, that with no other enemy to 
contend with, and no diversion of his force to other objects, 
the Porte has not been able to carry the war into the 
Morea, and that, by the last accounts, its armies were 
acting defensively in Thessaly. I pass over, also, the 
naval engagements of the Greeks, although that is a mode 
of warfare in which they are calculated to excel, and in 
which they have already performed actions of such dis- 
tinguished skill and bravery as would draw applause upon 
the best mariners in the world. The present state of the 
war would seem to be, that the Greeks possess the whole 
of the Morea, with the exception of the three fortresses 
of Patras, Coron, and Modon ; all Candia, but one fortress ; 
and most of the other islands. They possess the citadel 
of Athens, Missolonghi, and several other places in Livadia. 
They have been able to act on the offensive, and to carry 
the war beyond the isthmus. There is no reason to believe 
their marine is weakened : probably, on the other hand, it 
is strengthened. But, what is most of all important, they 
have obtained time and experience. They have awakened 
a sympathy throughout Europe and throughout America ; 
and they have formed a government which seems suited to 
the emergency of their condition- 

" Sir, they have done much. It would be great injustice 



58 THE LIEE AND TIMES 

to compare their achievements with our own. We began 
our revolution already possessed of government, and, com- 
paratively, of civil liberty. Our ancestors had for centuries 
been accustomed in a great measure to govern themselves. 
They were well acquainted with popular elections and 
legislative assemblies, and the general principles and prac- 
tice of free governments. They had little else to do than 
to throw off the paramount authority of the parent state. 
Enough was still left, both of law and of organization, to 
conduct society in its accustomed course and to unite men 
together for a common object. The Greeks, of course, 
could act with little concert at the beginning : they were 
unaccustomed to the exercise of power, without experience, 
with limited knowledge, without aid, and surrounded by 
nations which, whatever claims the Greeks might seem to 
have upon them, have afforded them nothing but discou- 
ragement and reproach. They have held out, however, 
for three campaigns ; and that, at least, is something. 
Constantinople and the northern provinces have sent forth 
thousands of troops : they have been defeated. Tripoli, 
and Algiers, and Egypt, have contributed their marine 
contingents : they have not kept the ocean. Hordes of 
Tartars have crossed the Bosphorus : they have died where 
the Persians died. The powerful monarchies in the neigh- 
borhood have denounced their cause, and admonished them 
to abandon it and submit to their fate. They have 
answered them, that, although two hundred thousand of 
their countrymen have offered up their lives, there yet 
remain lives to offer ; and that it is the determination of 
all, 'yes, of all,' to persevere until they shall have esta- 
blished their liberty, or until the power of their oppressors 
shall have relieved them from the burden of existence. 

" It may now be asked, perhaps, whether the expression 
of our own sympathy, and that of the country, may do 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 59 

them good. I hope it may. It may give them courage 
and spirit, it may assure them of public regard, teach them 
that they are not wholly forgotten by the civilized world, 
and inspire them with constancy in the pursuit of their 
great end. At any rate, sir, it appears to me that the 
measure which I have proposed is due to our own character 
and called for by our own duty. When we shall have dis- 
charged that duty, we may leave the rest to the disposition 
of Providence. 

" I do not see how it can be doubted that this measure 
is entirely pacific. I profess my inability to perceive that 
it has any possible tendency to involve our neutral rela- 
tions. If the resolution pass, it is not necessary to be 
immediately acted on. It will not be acted on at all, 
unless, in the opinion of the President, a proper and safe 
occasion for acting upon it shall arise. If we adopt the 
resolution to-day, our relations with every foreign state 
will be to-morrow precisely what they now are. The resolu- 
tion will be sufficient to express our sentiments on the sub- 
jects to which I have adverted. Useful to that purpose, 
it can be mischievous to no purpose. If the topic were 
properly introduced into the message, it cannot be impro- 
perly introduced into discussion in this House. If it were 
proper— which no one doubts — for the President to express 
his opinions upon it, it cannot, I think, be improper for us 
to express ours. The only certain effect of this resolution 
is to express, in a form usual in bodies constituted like 
this, our approbation of the general sentiment of the mes- 
sage. Do we wish to withhold that approbation? The 
resolution confers on the President no new power, nor does 
it enjoin on him the exercise of any new duty, nor does 
it hasten him in the discharge of any existing duty. 

"I cannot imagine that this resolution can add any thing 
to those excitements which it has been supposed, I think 



6*0 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

very causelessly, might possibly provoke the Turkish 
Government to acts of hostility. There is already the 
message, expressing the hope of success to the Greeks and 
disaster to the Turks, in a much stronger manner than is 
to be implied from the terms of this resolution. There is 
the correspondence between the Secretary of State and 
the Greek agent in London, already made public, in which 
similar wishes are expressed, and a continuance of the 
correspondence apparently invited. I might add to this 
the unexampled burst of feeling which this cause has 
called forth from all classes of society, and the notorious 
fact of pecuniary contributions made throughout the 
country for its aid and advancement. After all this, who- 
ever can see cause of danger to our pacific relations from 
the adoption of this resolution has a keener vision than I 
can pretend to. Sir, there is no augmented danger ; there 
is no danger. The question comes at last to this, whether, 
on a subject of this sort, this House holds an opinion which 
is worthy to be expressed. 

" Even suppose, sir, an agent or commissioner were to 
be immediately sent, — a measure which I myself believe to 
be the proper one, — there is no breach of neutrality, nor 
any just cause of offence. Such an agent, of course, would 
not be accredited ; he would not be a public minister. The 
object would be inquiry and information, — inquiry which 
we have a right to make, information which we are inte- 
rested to possess. If a dismemberment of the Turkish 
empire be taking place, or has already taken place, — if a 
new state be rising, or be already risen, in the Mediter- 
ranean, — who can doubt that, without any breach of neu- 
trality, we may inform ourselves of these events for the 
government of our own concerns? 

u The Greeks have declared the Turkish coasts in a 
state of blockade : may we not inform ourselves whether 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER* 61 

<his blockade be nominal or real? and, of course, whether 
it shall be regarded or disregarded ? The greater our 
trade may happen to be with Smyrna, a consideration 
which seems to have alarmed some gentlemen, the greater 
is the reason, in my opinion, why we should seek to be 
accurately informed of those events which may affect its 
safety. 

" It seems to me impossible, therefore, for any reasonable 
man to imagine that this resolution can expose us to the 
resentment of the Sublime Porte. 

" As little reason is there for fearing its consequences 
upon the conduct of the Allied Powers. They may, very 
naturally, dislike our sentiments upon the subject of the 
Greek revolution ; but what those sentiments are they will 
much more explicitly learn in the President's message than 
in this resolution. They might, indeed, prefer that we 
should express no opposition to the doctrines which they 
have avowed, and the application which they have made 
of those doctrines to the cause of Greece. But I trust 
we are not disposed to leave them in any doubt as to our 
sentiments upon these important subjects. They have 
expressed their opinions, and do not call that expression 
of opinion an interference ; in which respect they are 
right, as the expression of opinion in such cases is not 
such an interference as would justify the Greeks in con- 
sidering the powers at war with them. For the same 
reason, any expression which we may make of different 
principles and different sympathies is no interference. No 
one would call the President's message an interference ; 
and yet it is much stronger in that respect than this resolu- 
tion. If either of them could be construed to be an in- 
terference, no doubt it would be improper, at least it 
would be so according to my view of the subject ; for the 
very thing which I have attempted to resist in the course 



62 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

of these observations is the right of foreign interference* 
But neither the message nor the resolution has that cha- 
racter. There is not a power in Europe that can suppose 
that, in expressing our opinions on this occasion, we are 
governed by any desire of aggrandizing ourselves or ot 
injuring others. We do no more than to maintain those 
established principles in which we have an interest in com- 
mon with other nations, and to resist the introduction of 
new principles and new rules, calculated to destroy the 
relative independence of states, and particularly hostile to 
the whole fabric of our Government. 

" I close then, sir, with repeating, that the object of 
this resolution is to avail ourselves of the interesting occa- 
sion of the Greek revolution to make our protest against 
the doctrines of the Allied Powers, both as they are laid 
down in principle and as they are applied in practice. 

" I think it right, too, sir, not to be unseasonable in the 
expression of our regard, and, as far as that goes, in 
evincing our feelings in consonance with a long oppressed 
and now struggling people. I am not of those who would, 
in the hour of utmost peril, withhold such encouragement 
as might be properly and lawfully given, and, when the 
crisis should be past, overwhelm the rescued sufferer with 
kindness and caresses. The Greeks address the civilized 
world with a pathos not easy to be resisted. They invoke 
our favor by more moving considerations than can well 
belong to the condition of any other people. They stretch 
out their arms to the Christian communities of the earth, 
beseeching them, by a generous recollection of their an- 
cestors, by the consideration of their own desolated and 
ruined cities and villages, by their wives and children sold 
into an accursed slavery, by their own blood, which they 
seem willing to pour out like water, by the common faith 
and in the name which unites all Christians, that they 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 63 

would extend to them at least some token of compassionate 
regard." 

Mr. Webster distinguished himself bj his opposition in 
Congress to the tariff of 1824. He condemned it on the 
ground of expediency ; but his resistance and that of the 
entire Massachusetts delegation was useless ; the bill was 
passed and assumed the authority of law. 

In the fall of 1824, Mr. Webster was again elected to re- 
present Boston in the national legislature. His popularity 
at this time at home may be inferred from the significant 
and unusual fact that his election may be said to have been 
almost unanimous. There were five thousand votes polled; 
and out of that number Mr. Webster obtained all except 
ten. During the session which ensued, Mr. Webster was 
Chairman of the Judiciary Committee; and in that capacity 
he introduced a resolution on the 3d of March, 1825, which 
revolutionized the criminal jurisprudence of the United 
States. The old system, established by the act of April, 
1790, had been found to be wholly inadequate to the 
necessities of the case ; and contingencies were continually 
occurring for which no provision had been made. His bill 
was intended to provide more effectually for the punish- 
ment of certain crimes against the United States. After 
a thorough discussion, it was passed ; and its operation 
has ever since been found to be most beneficial to the 
interests of the country. 

A circumstance worthy of note at this period of Mr. 
Webster's career was the delivery of his celebrated ora 
tion on the laying of the corner-stone of Bunker Hill 
Monument, — one of the most masterly efforts of eloquence 
which modern times have produced. The scene on this oc- 
casion possessed surpassing interest. The day was bright 
and the sky propitious. A rast multitude assembled at 
the appointed hour around the speaker's rostrum, and 



64 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

covered the memorable mount which had been immortalized 
by the deadly combat of departed patriots with the fell 
powers of a foreign despot. A large number of the mili 
tary mixed with the assemblage ; and among them waa 
seen a small but heroic band of veterans, scarred and 
shattered by the storms of battle, feeble and emaciated 
by the lapse of years ; yet bearing on their dauntless brows 
the impress of indomitable heroism, and feeling the. con- 
scious might of unconquered patriots in their hearts. They 
were the last surviving remains of those who had fought 
in Revolutionary battles, forty of whom had been present 
and had engaged in the conflict on Bunker Hill. As they 
passed along to the inspiriting sound of martial melody to 
the scene of their former glory and triumph, in times long 
since gone by, tears gushed from the eyes of grateful and 
admiring myriads, and shouts of applause again and again 
rent the heavens. Among these crowds were seen the 
bright banners of many societies floating on the breeze ; but 
nobler and more illustrious than them all were the stars and 
stripes, which were unfurled to the free winds of heaven 
and decked the scene at every point. Mr. Webster might 
well have been inspired by such an occasion and by such 
a spectacle. He delivered h ; s oration from a stage erected 
on the northern declivity of the hill ; while the vast 
assemblage, covering the surrounding eminences and vales 
as far as the eye could reach, listened to him in rapt at- 
tention ; and even those who in the distance were unable 
to hear his voice were deeply impressed with the imposing 
and solemn grandeur of the scene. 

Mr. Monroe was succeeded as President by John Quincy 
Adams. In the ballot Mr. Clay had thirty-seven votes, 
and neither candidate had received the necessary number. 
Mr. Clay then induced his partisans to give their support 
to Mr. Adams, by which coalition the latter was elected. 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 65 

Mr. Clay became Secretary of State ; and from this 
circumstance arose the charge and the suspicion which 
followed and persecuted the Kentucky Senator even to the 
grave, that he had sold his influence for the spoils of 
office. Of this accusation it may safely be asserted that not 
the slightest evidence for it has ever been produced ; and 
that the origin and the perpetuation of the slander is due 
more to the inherent meanness and suspiciousness of his 
calumniators than to any proof which they have ever been 
able to adduce in support of the suspicion. 

During the winter of 1826, Mr. Webster was again 
Chairman of the Judiciary Committee ; and as such he 
reported a bill for the purpose of reconstructing the 
Supreme Court of the United States. As originally 
organized by the act of September, 1789, it had become in- 
adequate to perform the growing multitude of duties which 
devolved upon it. In November, 1792, the judges had 
themselves addressed a communication to the President 
on the subject. In consequence of this appeal, which was 
submitted to the consideration of Congress, some change 
had been made in the amount of their labors. Several 
changes were subsequently made in the supreme judicature 
of the country ; all of which gradually became inadequate 
to the increasing necessities of the case. Mr. Webster's 
proposition was intended to meet all present and future 
exigencies. He proposed that the Supreme Court should 
consist of a chief-justice and nine associate justices ; and 
that thenceforth there should be regular circuit courts in 
the several districts of the United States, consisting of a 
judge of the Supreme Court and a district judge of the 
district in which the circuit court should be held. The 
bill finally passed, and became the law of the land, which 
still operates so benignantly for the judicial interests of 

6* 



66 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

the United States, and would seem to be incapable of further 
improvement. 

During 1826 Mr. Webster distinguished himself by the 
delivery of an oration on the death of John Adams, ex- 
President of the United States, who expired on the 4th 
of July in that year at Quincy. It was the fiftieth anni- 
versary of the Declaration of American Independence. On 
the same day Mr. Jefferson, the author of the Declaration, 
paid the same great debt of nature. The coincidence 
was a most remarkable one ; and the oration which he de- 
livered at Boston on the 2d of August, 1826, will always 
remain one of the most masterly efforts of modern elo- 
quence. 

In November, 1826, Mr. Webster was again requested 
to become a candidate for re-election to the House of 
Representatives ; but a vacancy occurring at this time in 
the delegation of Massachusetts in the United States 
Senate, he was elected to that high post by a large ma- 
jority of the votes of the Legislature of Massachusetts. He 
therefore took his seat as a Senator in the twentieth Con- 
gress, with his fame established, his influence widely ex- 
tended, and the highest expectations entertained of the 
position which he would quickly assume among the most 
gifted and powerful intellects in the land. 

Nor was this expectation disappointed. His first speech 
was delivered upon a bill introduced for the purpose of 
affording relief to the surviving officers of the Revolution. 
He delivered a very able oration on this occasion, which at 
once placed him in the first rank among his Senatorial 
associates. The manner and spirit which pervaded it may 
be inferred from the following extract : 

" But it is known to be impossible to carry the measure 
to such an extent as to embrace the militia ; and it is plain, 
too, that the cases are different. The bill, as I have 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. Cu 

already said, confines itself to those who served not oc- 
casionally, not temporarily, but permanently ; who allowed 
themselves to be counted on as men who were to see the 
contest through, last as long as it might ; and who have 
made the phrase ' 'listing during the war' a proverbial ex- 
pression, signifying unalterable devotion to our cause, 
through good fortune and ill fortune, till it reached its 
close. This is a plain distinction ; and although, perhaps, 
I might wish to do more, I see good ground to stop here 
for the present, if we must stop anywhere. The militia 
who fought at Concord, at Lexington and at Bunker Hill 
have been alluded to, in the course of this debate, in terms 
of well-deserved praise. Be assured, sir, there could with 
difficulty be found a man who drew his sword or carried 
his musket at Concord, at Lexington, or at Bunker Hill, 
who would wish you to reject this bill. They might ask 
you to do more, but never to refrain from doing this. 
Would to God they were assembled here, and had the fate 
of the bill in their own hands ! Would to God the question 
of its passage were to be put to them ! They would affirm 
it with a unity of acclamation that would rend the roof of 
the Capitol!" 



68 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER VI. 

Webster's Reply to Mr. Hayne — Preliminary Circumstances — Speeches 
of Mr. Benton — Mr. Hayne's First Speech — His Character and Talents 
— Mr. Webster's First Speech in Reply — The Second Speech of Mr. 
Hayne — Its Character — Extract from it — Mr. Webster's Reply — In- 
tense Interest felt on the Occasion — Mr. Webster's Appearance and 
Manner — The Audience — Qualities of his Great Speech — Its Prodigious 
Effect and Power. 

The career of Mr. Webster in the United States Senate 
was one of constantly increasing celebrity ; but his fame 
attained its culmination and its climax by the delivery of 
his memorable speech in reply to Mr. Hayne of South 
Carolina, on the 26th of January, 1830. This was the 
most glorious achievement of this great statesman's career. 
This oration is the masterpiece of all his performances; 
and in this respect it resembles the oration of Demosthenes 
on the Crown, or Burke's speech against "Warren Hastings : 
it was the highest, the most complete, and the most con- 
summate performance of his gigantic faculties. It is pro- 
bably also the ablest effort of oratory which modern times 
have produced ; and it is therefore proper that we should 
narrate at some length the circumstances under which it 
was delivered, and the results which were produced by it. 

Andrew Jackson was elected President of the United 
States in the fall of 1828 by a vast majority, which 
clearly indicated the great unpopularity into which John 
Quincy Adams and his administration had fallen. Mr. 
Calhoun was chosen Vice-President at the same time. 
The first session of the twenty-first Congress opened in 



UE JJAiNlliL WEBSTER. 69 

December, 1829, Mr. Calhoun presiding in the Senate. 
The disposal of the public lands at once became a subject 
of prominent interest to the Federal Representatives*, 
and on the 29th of December Mr. Foote of Connecticut 
introduced the following resolution in the Senate : 

" Resolved, That the Committee on Public Lands be in 
structed to inquire and report the quantity of public lands 
remaining unsold within each State and Territory, and 
whether it be expedient to limit for a certain period the 
sales of public lands to such lands as have heretofore 
been offered for sale, and are now subject to entry at the 
minimum price. And also, whether the office of Sur- 
veyor-General, and some of the landed offices, may not be 
abolished without detriment to the public service." 

To this resolution an amendment was subsequently 
added to the effect, "whether it be expedient to adopt 
measures to hasten the sales and extend more rapidly the 
surveys of the public lands." 

During the discussion which ensued upon this resolu- 
tion, many offensive allusions were made by Southern 
and Western members, in reference to the policy which 
had been pursued by other portions of the Confederacy. 
Several weeks were employed in the discussion. The 
great difference of principle which seemed to lie at the 
foundation of the opposition of sentiment which prevailed 
was, that one party defended national views of the Con- 
stitution, and the other maintained the sectional doctrine 
of State Rights. Mr. Foote, having expounded and de- 
fended his resolution briefly, was answered by Mr. Benton 
in a furious tirade against the New England States, charg- 
ing them with a premeditated design to encroach upon the 
interests of the West. The subject was then postponed 
for further consideration till the 13th of January. Mr. 
Benton again took part in the debate on the 18th, repeat 



70 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

ing his attacks upon New England and her representatives. 
On the following day Mr. Holmes, of Maine, and several 
other Northern Senators, replied to the charges of Mr. 
Benton. These were followed by a speech from Mr. 
Hayne, of South Carolina, of the same drift and spirit 
which had been displayed by Mr. Benton. 

Mr. Hayne was then one of the younger members of 
the Senate, and a man of ability. He was a special 
favorite of Mr. Calhoun, whose entire system of policy 
and opinion he had adopted and uniformly defended. 
His manner of speaking was rapid, declamatory, yet not 
devoid of brilliancy and force. He was deficient in that 
weight and impressiveness which alone belong to men of 
greater calibre ; though, while speaking, few men could ex- 
ceed him in the hold with which his fluent and graceful 
declamation retained the attention and thrilled the feel- 
ings of an audience. There was also frequently a degree 
of sarcastic bitterness in his remarks which inflammable 
natures generally display, and which often leads to more 
serious consequences than are intended or even anticipated. 
Mr. Hayne's speech on this- occasion was one of his best 
efforts. On the next day, January 20th, Mr. Webster 
made a reply to him, which was chiefly of a dry and 
argumentative character, but serving as a complete reply 
to the attack on the New England States which the 
speech of Mr. Hayne contained. He defended the policy 
which New England had always pursued in reference to 
the Western and Southern States. In the course of his 
argument he used the following language : 

" And here, sir, at the epoch of 1794, let us pause and 
survey the scene as it actually existed thirty-five years 
ago. Let us look back and behold it. Over all that is 
now Ohio there then stretched one vast wilderness, un- 
broken except by two small spots of civilized culture, the 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 71 

one at Marietta and the other at Cincinnati. At these 
little openings, hardly each a pin's point upon the map, 
the arm of the frontier-man had levelled the forest and let 
in the sun. These little patches of earth, themselves 
almost overshadowed by the boughs of that wilderness 
which had stood and perpetuated itself, from century to 
century, ever since the creation, were all that had then 
been rendered verdant by the hand of man. In an extent 
of hundreds and thousands of square miles, no other sur- 
face of smiling green attested the presence of civilization. 
The hunter's path crossed mighty rivers, flowing in soli- 
tary grandeur, whose sources lay in remote and unknown 
regions of the wilderness. It struck upon the north on a 
vast inland sea, over which the wintry tempests raged as 
on the ocean: all around was bare creation. It was fresh, 
untouched, unbounded, magnificent wilderness. And, sir, 
what is it now ? Is it imagination only, or can it possibly 
be fact, that presents such a change as surprises and as- 
tonishes us, when we turn our eyes to what Ohio now is ? 
Is it reality, or a dream, that, in so short a period even as 
thirty-five years, there has sprung up, on the same surface, 
an independent State with a million of people ? A million 
of inhabitants ! an amount of population greater than 
that of all the cantons of Switzerland ; equal to one-third 
of all the people of the United States when they under- 
took to accomplish their independence. This new member 
of the Republic has already left far behind her a majority 
of the old States. She is now by the side of Virginia 
and Pennsylvania, and, in point of numbers, will shortly 
admit no equal but New York herself. If, sir, we may 
judge of measures by their results, what lessons do these 
facts read us upon the policy of the Government ? What 
inferences do they authorize upon the general question of 
kindness or unkindness ?" 



72 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

But Mr. Webster's opponents were neither satisfied nor 
Bilenced by his manly and able defence of his constituents. 
Mr. Benton rose as soon as Mr. Webster took his seat, 
and again assailed New England with his usual severity 
and acrimony. Mr. Hayne followed Mr. Benton, and 
then delivered, on the 25th of January, that great speech 
which called forth in reply the still greater performance 
of Mr. Webster. It was like the oration of iEschines 
against the Crown, which elicited the masterly and un- 
equalled achievement of Demosthenes in answer for the 
Crown. 

The purpose of this most labored oration of Mr. Hayne, 
in the delivery of which he exhausted his utmost abilities, 
was to set forth a defence of the peculiar doctrine of South 
Carolina, which claimed the reserved right for any State 
to nullify the enactments of the general Government 
whenever in her opinion they were unconstitutional, — so 
far as her own territorial limits were concerned. He also 
eulogized the patriotic services of the South in the Revo- 
lutionary struggle, and detracted from the magnitude and 
importance of those which had then been rendered by New 
England. His ' speech occupied two hours and a half in 
the delivery, and was regarded as a splendid effort of 
parliamentary eloquence. The Southern members were 
in raptures in consequence of it. Mr. Calhoun, the Vice- 
President, who occupied the Chair of the Senate during 
its delivery, was highly gratified, and took no pains to 
conceal his pleasurable sensations. The representatives 
from New England seemed to be intimidated and discon- 
certed by this fierce and bold attack, and to despair of 
their cause. As this speech of Mr. Hayne is so remark- 
able in itself, and is so closely connected with the most 
important incident of Mr. Webster's whole career, we will 
introduce an extract from it. It will serve to explain 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 73 

more clearly the singular power of that vast avalanche 
of argument and declamation which it drew forth from the 
great champion of New England in reply to it : 

" Sir, the Senator from Massachusetts, on that, the 
proudest day of his life, like a mighty giant, bore away 
upon his shoulders the pillars of the temple of error and 
delusion, escaping himself unhurt, and leaving his adversa- 
ries overwhelmed in its ruins. Then it was that he erected 
to free trade a beautiful and enduring monument, and ' in- 
scribed the marble with his name.' Mr. President, it is 
with pain and regret that I now go forward to the next 
great- era in the political life of that gentleman, when he 
was found on this floor, supporting, advocating, and finally 
voting for, the tariff of 1828, — that ' bill of abominations.' 
By that act, sir, the Senator from Massachusetts has de- 
stroyed the labors of his whole life, and given a wound to 
the cause of free trade never to be healed. Sir, when I 
recollect the position which that gentleman once occupied, 
and that which he now holds in public estimation, in rela- 
tion to this subject, it is not at all surprising that the tariff 
should be hateful to his ears. Sir, if I had erected to my 
own fame so proud a monument as that which the gentle- 
man built up in 1824, and I could have been tempted to 
destroy it with my own hands, I should hate the voice that 
should ring * the accursed tariff' in my ears. I doubt not, 
the gentleman feels very much in relation to the tariff as 
a certain knight did to 'instinct,' and, with him, would be 
disposed to exclaim, — 

'Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.' 

"But, Mr. President, to be more serious: what are we 

of the South to think of what we have heard this day? 

The Senator from Massachusetts tells us that the tariff is 

not an Eastern measure, and treats it as if the East had 

7 



74 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

no interest in it. The Senator from Missouri insists it is 
not a Western measure, and that it has done no good to 
the West. The South comes in, and, in the most earnest 
manner, represents to you that this measure, which we are 
told ' is of no value to the East or the West,' is * utterly 
destructive of our interests.' We represent to you that it 
has spread ruin and devastation through the land, and 
prostrated our hopes in the dust. We solemnly declare 
that we believe the system to be wholly unconstitutional, 
and a violation of the compact between the States and the 
Union ; and our brethren turn a deaf ear to our com- 
plaints, and refuse to relieve us from a system ' which not 
enriches them, but makes us poor indeed.' Good God ! 
Mr. President, has it come to this? Do gentlemen hold 
the feelings and wishes of their brethren at so cheap a 
rate, that they refuse to gratify them at so small a price? 
Do .gentlemen value so lightly the peace and harmony of 
the country, that they will not yield a measure of this 
description to the affectionate entreaties and earnest 
remonstrances of their friends ? Do gentlemen estimate 
the value of the Union at so low a price, that they will not 
even make one effort to bind the States together with the 
cords of affection ? And has it come to this ? Is this the 
spirit in which this Government is to be administered ? If 
so, let me tell gentlemen, the seeds of dissolution are 
already sown, and our children will reap the bitter fruit. 

" The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. 
Webster,) while he exonerates me personally from the 
charge, intimates that there is a party in the country who 
are looking to disunion. Sir, if the gentleman had stopped 
there, the accusation would have ' passed by me like 
the idle wind, which I regard not.' But when he goes on 
to give to his accusation * a local habitation and a name,* 
by quoting the expression of a distinguished citizen of 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 75 

South Carolina, (Dr. Cooper,) 'that it was time for the 
South to calculate the value of the Union,' and, in the lan- 
guage of the bitterest sarcasm, adds, ' Surely then the 
Union cannot last longer than July, 1831,' it is impossible 
to mistake either the allusion or the object of the gentle- 
man. Now, Mr. President, I call upon every one who 
hears me to bear witness that this controversy is not of my 
seeking. The Senate will do me the justice to remember 
that, at the time this unprovoked and uncalled-for attack 
was made on the South, not one word had been uttered by 
me in disparagement of New England ; nor had I made 
the most distant allusion either to the Senator from Mas- 
sachusetts or the State he represents. But, sir, that gen- 
tleman has thought proper, for purposes best known to 
himself, to strike the South, through me, the most unworthy 
of her servants. He has crossed the border, he has invaded 
the State of South Carolina, is making war upon her 
citizens, and endeavoring to overthrow her principles and 
her institutions. Sir, when the gentleman provokes me to 
such a conflict, I meet him at the threshold ; I will struggle, 
while I have life, for our altars and our firesides ; and, if 
God gives me strength, I will drive back the invader dis- 
comfited. Nor shall I stop there. If the gentleman pro- 
vokes the war, he shall have war. Sir, I will not stop at 
the border ; I will carry the war into the enemy's territory, 
and not consent to lay down my arms until I have obtained 
1 indemnity for the past and security for the future.' It is 
with unfeigned reluctance, Mr. President, that I enter upon 
the performance of this part of my duty ; I shrink almost 
instinctively from a course, however necessary, which may 
have a tendency to excite sectional feelings and sectional 
jealousies. But, sir, the task has been forced upon me; 
and I proceed right onward to the performance of my duty. 
Be the consequences what they may, the responsibility is 



76 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

with those who have imposed upon me this necessity. The 
Senator from Massachusetts has thought proper to cast the 
first stone ; and if he shall find, according to a homely 
adage, 'that he lives in a glass house,' on his head be the 
consequences. The gentleman has made a great flourish 
about his fidelity to Massachusetts. I shall make no pro- 
fessions of zeal for the interests and honor of South Caro- 
lina : of that my constituents shall judge. If there be 
one State in the Union, Mr. President, (and I say it not in 
a boastful spirit,) that may challenge comparison with any 
other, for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating 
devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina. Sir, 
from the very commencement of the Revolution up to this 
hour, there is no sacrifice, however great, she has not 
cheerfully made, no service she has ever hesitated to per- 
form. She has adhered to you in your prosperity ; but in 
your adversity she has clung to you with more than filial 
affection. No matter what was the condition of her 
domestic affairs, though deprived of her resources, divided 
by parties, or surrounded with difficulties, the call of the 
country has been to her as the voice of God. Domestic 
discord ceased at the sound ; every man became at once 
reconciled to his brethren, and the sons of Carolina were 
all seen crowding together to the temple, bringing their 
gifts to the altar of their common country. 

"What, sir, was the conduct of the South during the 
Revolution ? Sir, I honor New England for her conduct 
in that glorious struggle. But great as is the praise which 
belongs to her, I think, at least, equal honor is due to the 
South. They espoused the quarrel of their brethren with 
a generous zeal, which did not suffer them to stop to cal- 
culate their interest in the dispute. Favorites of the 
mother-country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to 
create a commercial rivalship, they might have found in 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 77 

their situation a guaranty that their trade would be forever 
fostered and protected by Great Britain. But, trampling 
on all considerations either of interest or of safety, they 
rushed into the conflict, and, fighting for principle, perilled 
all, in the sacred cause of freedom. Never was there 
exhibited in the history of the world higher examples of 
noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance, 
than by the Whigs of Carolina during the Revolution. 
The whole State, from the mountains to the sea, was over- 
run by an overwhelming force of the enemy. The fruits 
of industry perished on the spot where they were pro- 
duced, or were consumed by the foe. The * plains of 
Carolina' drank up the most precious blood of her citizens. 
Black and smoking ruins marked the places which had 
been the habitations of her children. Driven from their 
homes into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, 
even there the spirit of liberty survived, and South Caro- 
lina (sustained by the example of her Sumpters and her 
Marions) proved, by her conduct, that though her soil 
might be overrun, the spirit of her people was invincible. 

"But, sir, our country was soon called upon to engage 
in another revolutionary struggle, and that too, was a 
struggle for principle. I mean the political revolution 
which dates back to '98, and which, if it had not been 
successfully achieved, would have left us none of the fruits 
of the Revolution of '76. The Revolution of '98 restored 
the Constitution, rescued the liberty of the citizen from 
the grasp of those who were aiming at its life, and, in the 
emphatic language of Mr. Jefferson, 6 saved the Constitu- 
tion at its last gasp.' And by whom was it achieved ? 
By the South, sir, aided only by the Democracy of the 
North and West. 

" I come now to the war of 1812, — a war which, I well 

remember, was called in derision (while its event was 

7* 



78 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

doubtful) the Southern War, and sometimes the Carolina 
War ; but which is now universally acknowledged to have 
done more for the honor and prosperity of the country 
than all other events in our history put together. What, 
sir, were the objects of that war? 'Free trade and 
sailors' rights !' It was for the protection of Northern 
shipping and New England seamen that the country flew 
to arms. What interest had the South in that contest ? 
If they had sat down coldly to calculate the value of their 
interests involved in it, they would have found that they 
had every thing to lose, and nothing to gain. But, sir, 
with that generous devotion to country so characteristic 
of the South, they only asked if the rights of any portion 
of their fellow-citizens had been invaded ; and when told 
that Northern ships and New England seamen had been 
arrested on the common highway of nations, they felt that 
the honor of their country was assailed; and acting on 
that exalted sentiment ' which feels a stain like a wound,' 
they resolved to seek, in open war, for a redress of those 
injuries which it did not become freemen to endure. Sir, 
the whole South, animated as by a common impulse, cor- 
dially united in declaring and promoting that war. South 
Carolina sent to your councils, as the advocates and sup- 
porters of that war, the noblest of her sons. How they 
fulfilled that trust let a grateful country tell. Not a mea- 
sure was adopted, not a battle fought, not a victory won, 
which contributed in any degree to the success of that 
war, to which Southern counsels and Southern valor did 
not largely contribute. Sir, since South Carolina is as- 
sailed, I must be suffered to speak it to her praise, that at 
the very moment when, in one quarter, we heard it so- 
lemnly proclaimed, ' that it did not become a religious and 
moral people to rejoice at the victories of our army or our 
navy,' her Legislature unanimously 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 79 

" 'Resolved, That Me will cordially support the Govern* 
ment in the vigorous prosecution of the war, until a peace 
can be obtained on honorable terms, and we will cheerfully 
submit to every privation that may be required of us, b} 
our Government, for the accomplishment of this object.' 

" South Carolina redeemed that pledge. She threw 
open her treasury to the Government. She put at the 
absolute disposal of the officers of the United States all 
that she possessed, — her men, her money, and her arms. 
She appropriated half a million of dollars, on her own 
account, in defence of her maritime frontier, ordered a 
brigade of State troops to be raised, and, when left to pro- 
tect herself by her own means, never suffered the enemy 
to touch her soil, without being instantly driven off or 
captured. 

" Such, sir, was the conduct of the South — such the con- 
duct of my own State — in that dark hour * which tried 
men's souls.' 

" When I look back and contemplate the spectacle ex- 
hibited at that time in another quarter of the Union, — 
when I think of the conduct of certain portions of New 
England, and remember the part which was acted on that 
memorable occasion by the political associates of the gen- 
tleman from Massachusetts, — nay, when I follow that gen- 
tleman into the councils of the nation, and listen to his 
voice during the darkest period of the war, — I am indeed 
astonished that he should venture to touch upon the topics 
which he has introduced into this debate. South Carolina 
reproached by Massachusetts ! And from whom does the 
accusation come ? Not from the Democracy of New Eng- 
land ; for they have been in times past, as they are now, 
the friends and allies of the South. No, sir : the accusa- 
tion comes from that party whose acts, during the most 
trying and eventful period of our national history, were of 



80 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

such a character that their own Legislature, but a few 
years ago, actually blotted them out from their records, as 
a stain upon the honor of the country. But how can they 
ever be blotted out from the recollection of any one who 
had a heart to feel, a mind to comprehend, and a memory 
to retain, the events of that day ? Sir, I shall not attempt 
to write the history of the party in New England to which 
I have alluded, — the war-party in peace, and the peace- 
party in war. That task I shall leave to some future 
biographer of Nathan Dane ; and I doubt not it will be found 
quite easy to prove that the peace-party of Massachusetts 
were the only defenders of their country during their war, 
and actually achieved all our victories "by land and sea. 
In the mean time, sir, and until that history shall be writ- 
ten, I propose, with the feeble and glimmering lights which 
I possess, to review the conduct of this party, in connec- 
tion with the war and the events which immediately pre- 
ceded it. 

" It will be recollected, sir, that our great causes of 
quarrel with Great Britain were her depredations on 
Northern commerce, and the impressment of New England 
seamen. From every quarter we were called upon for 
protection. Importunate as the West is now represented 
to be on another subject, the importunity of the East on 
that occasion was far greater. I hold in my hands the 
evidence of the fact. Here are petitions, memorials, and 
remonstrances from all parts of New England, setting forth 
the injustice, the oppressions, the depredations, the insults, 
the outrages, committed by Great Britain against the un- 
offending commerce and seamen of New England, and 
calling upon Congress for redress. Sir, I cannot stop to 
read these memorials. In that from Boston, after stating 
the alarming and extensive condemnation of our vessels by 
Great Britain, which threatened ' to sweep our commerce 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 81 

from the face of the ocean,' and * to in voire our merchants 
in bankruptcy,' they call upon the Government 'to assert 
our rights, and to adopt such measures as will support the 
dignity and honor of the United States.' 

" From Salem we heard a language still more decisive : 
they call explicitly for f an appeal to arms,' and pledge 
their lives and property in support of any measures which 
Congress might adopt. From Newburyport an appeal 
was made ' to the firmness and justice of the Government 
to obtain compensation and protection.' It was here, I 
think, that, when the war was declared, it was resolved Ho 
resist our own Government even unto blood.' (Olive- 
Branch, p. 101.) 

" In other quarters the common language of that day 
was, that our commerce and our seamen were entitled to 
protection, and that it was the duty of the Government 
to afford it at every hazard. The conduct of Great 
Britain, we were then told, was 'an outrage upon our 
national independence.' These clamors, which commenced 
as early as January, 1806, were continued up to 1812. 
In a message from the Governor of one of the New Eng- 
land States, as late as the 10th October, 1811, this lan- 
guage is held : f A manly and decisive course has become 
indispensable ; a course to satisfy foreign nations that, 
while we desire peace, we have the means and the spirit 
to repel aggression. We are false to ourselves when our 
commerce, or our territory, is invaded with impunity.' 

" About this time, however, a remarkable change was 
observable in the tone and temper of those who had been 
endeavoring to force the country into a war. The lan- 
guage of complaint was changed into that of insult, and 
calls for protection converted into reproaches. ' Smoke ! 
smoke!' says one writer: 'my life on it, our executive 
have no more idea of declaring war than my grandmother/ 



82 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

' The committee of ways and means,' says another, 'have 
come out with their Pandora's box of taxes ; and yet 
nobody dreams of war.' f Congress do not mean to de- 
clare war : they dare not.' But why multiply examples ? 
An honorable member of the other house, from the city 
of Boston, [Mr. Quincy,] in a speech delivered on the 3d 
of April, 1812, says, 'Neither promises, nor threats, nor 
asseverations, nor oaths, will make me believe that you 
will go to war. The navigation States are sacrificed, and 
the spirit and character of the country prostrated by fear 
and avarice.' 'You cannot,' said the same gentleman, on 
another occasion, 'be kicked into a war.' 

" Well, sir, the war at length came ; and what did we 
behold? The very men who had been for six years 
clamorous for war, and for whose protection it was waged, 
became at once equally clamorous against it. They had 
received a miraculous visitation ; a new light suddenly 
beamed upon their minds; the scales fell from their eyes, 
and it was discovered that the war was declared from 
'subserviency to France;' and that Congress, and the 
executive, ' had sold themselves to Napoleon ;' that Great 
Britain had, in fact, ' done us no essential injury ;' that 
she was ' the bulwark of our religion ;' that where ' she 
took one of our ships she protected twenty ;' and that, if 
Great Britain had impressed a few of our seamen, it was 
because ' she could not distinguish them from her own.' 
And so far did this spirit extend, that a committee of the 
Massachusetts Legislature actually fell to calculation, and 
discovered, to their infinite satisfaction, but to the astonish- 
ment of all the world besides, that only eleven Massachu- 
setts sailors had ever been impressed. Never shall I 
forget the appeals that had been made to the sympathies 
of -the South in behalf of the 'thousands of impressed 
Americans' who had been torn from their families and 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 83 

friends, and 'immured in the floating dungeons of Britain.* 
The most touching pictures were drawn of the hard con- 
dition of the American sailor, ' treated like a slave/ 
forced to fight the battles of his enemy, * lashed to the 
mast, to be shot at like a dog.' But, sir, the very moment 
■we had taken up arms in their defence, it was discovered 
that all these were mere ' fictions of the brain,' and that 
the whole number in the State of Massachusetts was but 
eleven ; and that even these had been ' taken by mistake.' 
Wonderful discovery! The Secretary of State had. col- 
lected authentic lists of no less than six thousand im- 
pressed Americans. Lord Castlereagh himself acknow- 
ledged sixteen hundred. Calculations on the basis of the 
number found on board of the Guerriere, the Macedonian, 
the Java, and other British ships, (captured by the skill 
and gallantry of those heroes whose achievements are the 
treasured monuments of their country's glory,) fixed the 
number at seven thousand; and yet, it seems, Massachu- 
setts had lost but eleven ! Eleven Massachusetts sailors 
taken by mistake ! A cause of war, indeed ! Their ships, 
too, the capture of which had threatened < universal bank- 
ruptcy,' — it was discovered that Great Britain was their 
friend and protector : \ where she had taken one she-had 
protected twenty.' Then was the discovery made that 
subserviency to France, a hostility to commerce, ( a de- 
termination, on the part of the South and West, to break 
down the Eastern States,' and especially (as reported by a 
committee of the Massachusetts Legislature) f to force the 
sons of commerce to populate the wilderness,' were the 
true causes of the war. (Olive-Branch, pp. 134, 291.) But 
let us look a little further into the conduct of the peace- 
party of New England at that important crisis. Whatever 
difference of opinion might have existed as to the causes 
of the war, the country had a right to expect that, when 



84 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

once involved in the contest, all America would have 
cordially united in its support. Sir, the war effected, in 
its progress, a union of all parties at the South. But not 
so in New England : there great efforts were made to stir 
up the minds of the people to oppose it. Nothing was 
left undone to embarrass the financial operations of the 
Government, to prevent the enlistment of troops, to keep 
back the men and money of New England from the ser- 
vice of the Union, to force the President from his seat. 
Yes, sir, ' the island of Elba, or a halter!' were the 
alternatives they presented to the excellent and venerable 
James Madison. Sir, the war was further opposed by 
carrying on illicit trade with the enemy, by permitting 
that enemy to establish herself on the very soil of Massa- 
chusetts, and by opening a free trade between Great 
Britain and America, with a separate custom-house." 

To this speech of Mr. Hayne, Mr. Webster rose to 
reply in the Senate, on Tuesday, January 26th 1830. 
The expectation of the public had been elevated to the 
highest possible pitch. Some of the friends of Mr. Hayne 
were enthusiastic in their hopes ; others were more wisely 
desponding. Mr. Iredell, one of these, a Senator from 
South Carolina, remarked, speaking of Mr. Hayne, "He 
has started the lion ; but wait till we hear him roar and 
feel his claws." Mr. Webster's friends were hopeful and 
confident of the issue ; and he himself exhibited that 
calm and serene manner which he generally displayed, 
*.hat mens cequa in arduis which uniformly characterizes 
true greatness. He was heard by a friend to laugh to 
himself after returning home at the conclusion of Mr. 
Hayne's speech ; and being asked the subject of his mirth, 
he replied that he was then thinking of the admirable way 
in which Colonel Hayne's quotation about Banquo's ghost 
could be turned against himself. On the morning of the 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 85 

next day the House of Representatives was deserted. 
Nearly all the members hastened to the Senate-chamber as 
spectators of the imposing scene which was anticipated. 
Every portion of the apartment was densely packed at 
an early hour. The Mite of metropolitan fashion, the 
chief heads of the nation, all that was mosti illustrious 
in arts, arms and beauty in the Federal capital, had 
crowded into that chamber, and served by their personal 
appearance, by the splendor of their dresses and uniforms, 
and by their immense numbers, to increase the grandeur 
of that imposing presence. There were the representa- 
tives of many different States, some from the farthest 
limits of this vast continent, — from Maine, from California, 
and from Texas ; together with strangers and diplomatic 
agents from remote quarters of the globe, assembled to 
hear the greatest effort of the ablest master of debate in 
modern times. The place itself was illustrious and solemn ; 
for it was the central spot of the whole earth for high 
and grave discussion in reference to human freedom; 
and it had been hallowed by the labors and the elo- 
quence of the fathers and heroes of the Republic. The 
occasion was momentous and thrilling ; for it was one on 
which the Southern portion of the Confederacy had at- 
tacked the Northern by her favorite champion ; and when 
the latter was to stand forth to defend herself in the per- 
son of her most gifted son. A vast crowd, who could not 
possibly gain admittance to the closely-crowded interior 
of the Senate-chamber, filled all the surrounding halls, 
avenues, and passages where the orator's voice could 

be heard. 

At length Mr. Webster succeeded in reaching his seat ; 
and the order of business having been announced, he rose 
to speak. His appearance at that time was very remark- 
able. He was then in the prime and fulness of his ma- 

8 



86 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

jestic manhood. A nobler specimen of a man, both intel- 
lectually and physically, never existed on this earth. Hi? 
person was tall and well proportioned. His features were 
large and expressive. His hair, black as the raven's wing, 
'ay around his massive and dome-like forehead in ample 
folds. His dark and deeply-set eyes seemed to be kindled 
by the glowing ardor of thought, and glittered beneath 
his heavy brows like two fiery orbs gleaming at night 
from the darkness of a sepulchre. He wore a blue coat, 
a buff vest, and a white cravat, — the lingering remains of 
the antique taste which prevailed in the Revolutionary era. 
He arose calmly, yet with evident confidence, and com- 
menced his oration by a pleasing allusion to a mariner, 
tossed upon the angry and turbulent waves, who desires to 
be assured of his reckoning ; and he therefore, being simi- 
larly situated, called for the reading of the resolution which 
was then under discussion. The resolution being read, the 
orator addressed himself to the task before him, and com- 
menced that wondrous burst of eloquence — argumentative, 
indignant, combative, and patriotic — which has become 
memorable in the history of American legislation. He 
examined and confuted every position advanced by Mr. 
Hayne. He crushed every bone in his forensic body. 
He wrested every weapon from his hand, and then broke 
them over his opponent's shoulders. As may readily be 
supposed, the whole audience were amazed, entranced, 
and delighted by the power of the orator. The silence of 
the grave pervaded the chamber and its vicinity, interrupted 
only by the solemn roll and the sonorous swell of his voice, 
as it resounded in deep yet melodious cadence, like waves 
upon the shore of the sea, throughout the Oaoitol. The 
audience gradually exhibited intense emotion. A small 
group of Massachusetts men, who were gathered in one 
corner of a gallery, overawed by the triumphant majesty 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 87 

of the scene, burst into unbidden tears when their com- 
monwealth's orator paid his just tribute of praise to their 
native State. The Southern Senators scowled with black 
and yet futile defiance, when their sectional views were 
receiving such a castigation as they never before or since 
experienced. While he lashed Mr. Hayne personally for 
his dangerous principles and his factious tendencies, while 
he spoke derisively of Banquo's ghost and of other offen- 
sive topics, no human face ever wore so withering and 
relentless an expression of scorn ; when he referred to 
the glorious Union of the States, bright gleams of joy 
and pride illumined his features ; and a halo of intellectual 
glory seemed to surround his whole person while he dwelt 
upon the history, the services, and the patriotism of old 
Massachusetts. During a portion of the time employed 
in the delivery of the speech, Mr. Hayne was prancing to 
and fro, like a chafed and chastised tiger, in the rear of 
his seat; in vain endeavoring to evade the destructive 
shafts aimed at him by this modern Apollo, — in this case 
verily the "god of the unerring bow." 

At length, after speaking more than three hours, Mr. 
Webster concluded with one of his most famous and 
effective perorations. The majestic and musical tones of 
the orator seemed to vibrate in the ears of the audience 
even after he sat down ; and they appeared to be in a 
trance. The feeling which prevailed was too intense and 
profound for expression. The stillness of the grave 
ensued after the speech was ended ; not a movement was 
made, or a sound uttered, by the vast assembly. No more 
touching tribute could have been rendered in such a place 
to the masterly power of the orator. The silence at length 
became painful ; and the hostile president of the Senate, 
Mr. Calhoun, broke the spell by calling loudly for " Order J 
order!" when not the slightest disorder had been heard! 



88 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER VII. 

Death of Mrs. Webster — Mr. Webster's Second Marriage — The Celebrated 
Case of John Francis Knapp — Circumstances of the Case — Revelations 
of Hatch — Of Palmer — Crowninshield arrested — The Two Knapps — 
Confession of Joseph Knapp — Trial of Francis and Joseph Knapp — 
The Result — Mr. Choate's Narrative — Mr. Webster's Ability as a 
Criminal Lawyer — The Variety of his Talents. 

In the year 1827 Mr. Webster endured a severe domestic 
affliction in the death of his wife. This event occurred at 
New York, while she and her husband were on their way 
to Washington. It was the heaviest blow which he ever 
received ; for the attachment which existed between them 
was of the most tender nature. From his youth he had 
loved the fair and amiable Grace Fletcher with all the in- 
tensity of his nature. She had watched his rising fame 
with pride and joy. She had been one of the most 
devoted and affectionate of women ; and her loss was to 
him irreparable., It may truly be said that, after her 
death, the moral and social tendencies of Mr. Webster 
underwent a change which probably never would have 
occurred had she continued to live.* 

In August, 1830, Mr. Webster delivered his famous 
argument in the trial of John Francis Knapp for the 
murder of Joseph White, of Salem. This was his master- 
piece in the department of criminal law ; and the case was 
one of intense interest. Joseph White, a wealthy mer- 

* In 1830 Mr. Webster married Miss Caroline Le Roy, daughter oi 
Herman Le Roy, of the city of New York, who survived him. 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 89 

chant of Salem, was found murdered in his bed on the 7th 
of April, 1830. He was eighty-two years of age. His 
servant was the first to discover the deed and to proclaim 
it to the astonished citizens. Thirteen stabs were found 
upon the body, made by a sharp dagger ; and a heavy 
blow had been given upon the left temple, by which the 
skull was fractured. No valuables had been stolen from 
the house, though gold coin and silver plate were in the 
apartment of the deceased. The murder was perpetrated 
at night, by an unknown assassin, in one of the most 
densely-crowded portions of Salem. 

Never had a more profound and terrible mystery occurred 
in the annals of crime than was presented by the circum- 
stances of this case. Not the slightest indication could be 
detected, for several weeks, which threw any light upon the 
horrid enigma. At length the public learned that a person 
who was then in prison at New Bedford, seventy miles from 
Salem, had asserted that he could make important revela- 
tions in reference to it. His name was Hatch ; and he 
eventually deposed that the real murderer of Mr. White 
was a former associate of his at Salem, named Richard 
Crowninshield, Jr., a young man of bad reputation, bold, 
adroit, unprincipled, and capable of the most heinous 
crimes. Another witness afterward came forward, named 
Palmer, a resident of Belfast in Maine, who acknowledged 
that he had been acquainted with Crowninshield, and had 
learned from him his intention to assassinate Mr. White, 
as well as the connection of Crowninshield with Joseph J. 
Knapp, Jr., and John Francis Knapp, near relatives of 
the deceased, who hoped, by first destroying the will of 
Mr. White and then his life, to become heirs at law of his 
immense estate. The two Knapps, thus implicated by two 
witnesses in this awful crime, were young shipmasters in 
Salem, who had hitherto borne excellent characters. They 



90 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

were immediately arrested. J. J. Knapp, Jr. made a full 
confession, on the third day of his imprisonment, to the 
effect that he had projected the murder ; that he had com- 
municated his project to his brother, John Francis; that 
Francis had agreed to employ an assassin ; that Francis 
had subsequently engaged Crowninshield to murder Mr. 
White, for which he was to receive a thousand dollars ; that 
Joseph Knapp had promised to unbar a window at night 
in the abode of their victim, and thus facilitate the opera- 
tions of the assassin ; that he had actually abstracted Mr. 
White's will, and opened the shutters of a window in their 
victim's house, as agreed upon ; and that Crowninshield 
had finally entered the mansion, proceeded to Mr. Whi* h*a 
chamber, and had murdered him while asleep by a he> /y 
blow upon the head and thirteen stabs upon the body. 

Crowninshield was not aware of the revelations which 
had been made by Joseph Knapp, and maintained a stoical 
indifference of manner, which seemed to indicate his inno- 
cence ; but as soon as he heard of Knapp's arrest his 
behaviour changed, and indicated the utmost anxiety. The 
subsequent incidents connected with this memorable case 
can be best narrated by an eye-witness of the thrilling 
scenes connected with it : 

"Palmer was brought to Salem in irons on the 3d of 
June, and committed to prison. Crowninshield saw him 
taken from the carriage. He was put in the cell directly 
under that in which Crowninshield was kept. Several 
members of the committee entered Palmer's cell to talk 
with him : while they were talking, they heard a loud 
whistle, and, on looking up, saw that Crowninshield had 
picked away the mortar from the crevice between the 
blocks of the granite floor of his cell. After the loud 
whistle, he cried out, 'Palmer! Palmer!' and soon let 
down a string, to which were tied a pencil and a slip of 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 91 

paper. Two lines of poetry were written on the paper, 
in order that, if Palmer was really there, he would make 
it known by capping the verses. Palmer shrunk away 
into a corner, and was soon transferred to another cell. 
He seemed to stand in awe of Crowninshield. 

" On the 12th of June, a quantity of stolen goods was 
found concealed in the barn of Crowninshield, in conse- 
quence of information from Palmer. 

" Crowninshield, thus finding the proofs of his guilt and 
depravity thicken, on the 15th of June committed suicide 
by hanging himself to the bars of his cell with a handker- 
chief. He left letters to his father and brother, express- 
ing in general terms the viciousness of his life and the 
hopelessness of escape from punishment. When his asso- 
ciates in guilt heard his fate, they said it was not unex- 
pected by them, for they had often heard him say he would 
never live to submit to an ignominious punishment. 

"A special term of the Supreme Court w T as held at 
Salem on the 20th of July, for the trial of the prisoners 
charged with the murder : it continued in session till the 
20th of August, with a few days' intermission. An indict 
ment for the murder was found against John Francis Knapp, 
as principal, and Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., and George Crownin- 
shield, as accessories. Selman and Chase were discharged 
by the attorney-general. 

" The principal, John Francis Knapp, was first put on 
trial. As the law then stood, an accessory in a murder 
could not be tried until a principal had been convicted. 
He was defended by Messrs. Franklin Dexter and William 
H. Gardiner, advocates of high reputation for ability and 
eloquence. The trial was long and arduous, and the wit- 
nesses numerous. His brother Joseph, who had made a 
full confession, on the Government's promise of impunity 
if he would in good faith testify the truth, was brought 



92 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

into court, called to the stand as a witness, but declined to 
testify. To convict the prisoner, it was necessary for the 
Government to prove that he was present, actually or con- 
structively, as an aider or abettor in the murder. The 
evidence was strong that there was a conspiracy to commit 
the murder, that the prisoner was one of the conspirators, 
that at the time of the murder he was in Brown Street at 
the rear of Mr. White's garden, and the jury were satisfied 
that he was in that place to aid and abet in the murder, 
ready to afford assistance if necessary. He was con- 
victed. 

" Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., was afterward tried as an ac- 
cessory before the fact, and convicted. 

"George Crowninshield proved &n alibi, and was dis- 
charged. 

" The execution of John Francis Knapp and Joseph J. 
Knapp, Jr., closed the tragedy. 

" If Joseph, after turning state's evidence, had not 
changed his mind, neither he nor his brother, nor any of 
the conspirators, could have been convicted ; if he had 
testified, and disclosed the whole truth, it would have ap- 
peared that John Francis Knapp was in Brown Street, not 
to render assistance to the assassin ; but that Crownin- 
shield, when he started to commit the murder, requested 
Frank to go home and go to bed ; that Frank did go home, 
retired to bed, soon after arose, secretly left his father's 
house, and hastened to Brown Street, to await the coming 
out of the assassin, in order to learn whether the deed was 
accomplished, and all the particulars. If Frank had not 
been convicted as principal, none of the accessories could 
by law have been convicted. Joseph would not have been 
even tried ; for the Government stipulated that if he would 
be a witness for the State he should go clear. 

" The whole history of this occurrence is of romantic 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. * 93 

interest. The murder itself, the corpus delicti, was 
strange, — planned with deliberation and sagacity, and exe- 
cuted with firmness and vigor. While conjecture was 
baffled in ascertaining either the motive or the perpetrator, 
it was certain that the assassin had acted upon design, and 
not at random. He must have had knowledge of the 
house ; for .the window had been unfastened from within. 
He had entered stealthily, threaded his way in silence 
through the apartments, corridors and staircases, and 
coolly given the mortal blow. To make assurance doubly 
sure, he inflicted many fatal stabs, 'the least a death to 
nature,' and stayed not his hand till he had deliberately 
felt the pulse of his victim, to make certain that life was 
extinct. 

" It was strange that Crowninshield, the real assassin, 
should have been indicted and arrested on the testimony 
of Hatch, who was himself in prison, in a distant part of 
the State, at the time of the murder, and had no actual 
knowledge on the subject. 

" It was very strange that J. J. Knapp, Jr., should have 
been the instrument of bringing to light the mystery of 
the whole murderous conspiracy ; for when he received 
from the hand of his father the threatening letter of 
Palmer, consciousness of guilt so confounded his faculties, 
that, instead of destroying it, he stupidly handed it back, 
and requested his father to deliver it to the committee of 
vigilance. 

" It was strange that the murder should have been com- 
mitted on a mistake in law. Joseph, some time previous 
to the murder, had made inquiry how Mr. White's estate 
would be distributed in case he died without a will, and 
had been erroneously told that Mrs. Beckford, his mother- 
in-law, the sole issue and representative of a deceased 
sister of Mr. White, would inherit half of the estate, and 



94 • THE LIFE AND TIMES 

that the four children and representatives of a deceased 
brother of Mr. White, of whom the Hon. Stephen White 
was one, would inherit the other half. Joseph had 
privately read the will, and knew that Mr. White had 
bequeathed to Mrs. Beckford much less than half. 

" It was strange that the .murder should have been com- 
mitted on a mistake in fact also. Joseph furtively ab- 
stracted a will, and expected Mr. White would die intes- 
tate; but after the decease, the will, the last will, was 
found by his heirs in its proper place ; and it could never 
have been known or conjectured, without the aid of Joseph's 
confession, that he had made either of those blunders. 

" Finally, it was a strange fact that Knapp should, on 
the night following the murder, have watched with the 
mangled corpse, and at the funeral followed the hearse as 
one of the chief mourners, without betraying on either 
occasion the slightest emotion which could awaken a sus- 
picion of his guilt." 

Mr. Webster was employed to prosecute the defendant, 
Knapp, by the relatives of the deceased. Among the 
audience was the Hon. Rufus Choate, himself second only 
to Mr. Webster among the great advocates of New Eng- 
land, and after his death the facile princeps of a body of 
able men who justly esteem him as the most eminent of 
their number. He has described Mr. Webster's achieve- 
ment on this occasion in the following graphic language, 
after referring to other instances of his legal ability : 

" One such I stood in a relation to witness with a com- 
paratively easy curiosity, and yet with intimate and pro- 
fessional knowledge of all the embarrassments of the 
case. It was the trial of John Francis Knapp, charged 
with being present, aiding, and abetting in the murder of 
Joseph White, in which Mr. Webster conducted the pro- 
secution fcr the commonwealth ; in the same year with hi? 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 95 

reply to Mr. Hayne in the Senate, and a few months 
later, and when I bring to mind the incidents of that 
trial : the necessity of proving that the prisoner was near 
enough to the chamber in which the murder was beim* 
committed by another hand to aid in the act, and was 
there with the intention to do so, and thus in point of law 
did aid in it,— because mere accessorial guilt was not 
enough to convict him ; the difficulty of proving this — 
because the nearest point to which the evidence could 
trace him was still so distant as to warrant a pretty 
formidable doubt whether mere curiosity had not carried 
him thither ; and whether he could in any useful or even 
conceivable manner have co-operated with the actual 
murderer, if he had intended to do so ; and because the 
only mode of rendering it probable that he was there with 
a purpose of guilt was by showing that he was one of the 
parties to a conspiracy of murder, whose very existence, 
actors and objects had to be made out by the collation 
of the widest possible range of circumstances — some of 
them pretty loose — and even if he was a conspirator, it 
did not quite necessarily follow that any active participa- 
tion was assigned to him for his part, any more than to 
his brother, who, confessedly, took no such part — the 
great number of witnesses to be examined and cross-exa- 
mined, a duty devolving wholly on him ; the quick and 
sound judgment demanded and supplied to determine 
what to use and what to reject of a mass of rather un- 
manageable materials ; the points in the law of evidence 
to be argued, — in the course of which he made an appeal 
to the bench on the complete impunity which the rejection 
of the prisoner's confession would give to the murder in 
a style of dignity and energy, I should rather say of 
grandeur, which I never heard him equal, before or after ; 
the high ability and fidelity with which every part of the 



96 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

defence was conducted; and the great final summing up, 
to which he brought, and in which he needed, the utmost 
exertion of every faculty he possessed, to persuade the 
jury that the obligation of that duty, the sense of which, 
he said, ' pursued us ever : it is omnipresent like the 
Deity : if we take the wings of the morning and dwell in 
the uttermost parts of the sea, duty performed, or duty 
violated, is still with us for our happiness or misery' — to 
persuade them that this obligation demanded that on his 
proofs they should convict the prisoner ; to which he 
brought first the profound belief of his guilt, without 
which he could not have prosecuted him ; then skill con- 
summate in inspiring them with a desire or a willingness 
to be instrumental in detecting that guilt, and to lean on 
him in the effort to detect it ; then every resource of pro- 
fessional ability to break the force of the propositions of 
the defence, and to establish the truth of his own : infer- 
ring a conspiracy to which the prisoner was a party, from 
circumstances acutely ridiculed, by the able counsel oppos- 
ing him, as ' stuff,' but woven by him into strong and 
uniform tissue ; and then bridging over from the con- 
spiracy to the not very necessary inference that the par- 
ticular conspirator on trial was at his post, in execution of 
it, to aid and abet — the picture of the murder with which 
he had begun — not for rhetorical display, but to inspire 
solemnity, and horror, and a desire to detect and punish 
for justice and for security ; the sublime exhortation to 
duty with which he closed — resting on the universality 
and authoritativeness and eternity of its obligation — 
which left in every juror's mind the impression that it 
was the duty of convicting in this particular case, the 
sense of which would be with him in the hour of death, 
and in the judgment, and forever — with these recollections 
of that trial, I cannot help thinking it a more difficult and 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 97 

higher effort of mind than that more famous oration for 
the Crown." 

From Mr. Webster's forensic ability, as exhibited in 
this remarkable trial, the reader may form some adequate 
conception of the variety and diversity of his talents. 
It mattered not whether it were in the Senate-chamber, 
among the leading statesmen of a great nation, or in the 
popular assembly, where a stormy multitude were to be 
addressed by moving and declamatory appeals, or in the 
courts of civil justice, where recondite learning and dry, 
profound, abstract principles were to be discussed before 
calm and deliberate judges, or in the criminal to 'bunal, 
where a thorough knowledge of human nature, skilful 
management and consummate oratory were requjred in 
order to secure success ; — in all these varied and almost 
incompatible arenas of intellectual power, Mr. Webster 
appeared uniformly as the most gifted of men, the most 
gigantic in his mental proportions, and the most triumph- 
ant in his exercise and display of them. 






98 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Accession of General Jackson to the Presidency — Mr. Van Buren Re- 
jected as Minister to England — Mr. Webster supports the Renewal of 
the Charter of the U.S. Bank — Removal of the Deposits — Disastrous 
Consequences — Mr. Webster's Speeches on the Subject — Nullification 
in South Carolina — Mr. Webster's Celebrated Speech thereon — The Ac- 
tion of the President and of Congress — Accession of Van Buren to the 
Presidency — The Sub-Treasury Scheme — Mr. Webster's Opposition to 
it — Abolition of Slavery in the District of Columbia. 

The election of Andrew Jackson to the Presidency in 
1828 opened a more turbulent era in the history of the 
politics and government of the country. Upon the pe- 
culiar qualities of the inflexible hero of New Orleans it is 
not necessary for us here to dwell. Even Mr. Calhoun, 
who had been conciliated by the important office of Vice- 
President, soon found the yoke of the Presidential tyrant 
too heavy, and became restive under it. At the com- 
mencement of his administration, General Jackson en- 
deavored also to conciliate *Mr. Webster, being well aware 
of the vast power which he possessed as the ablest member 
of the Senate ; and he treated him with the most marked 
and significant courtesy. But Mr. Webster was not to 
be bought by the utmost blandishments of those who 
might be in the possession of power ; and accordingly, 
when Mr. Van Buren, the special favorite of the Pre- 
sident, was by him appointed Minister to England, Mr. 
Webster opposed his confirmation in the most emphatic 
and energetic terms. The wrath of the incensed Pre- 
sident was poured out upon the head of the offending 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 99 

statesman in overwhelming torrents, but it availed not. 
Mr. Webster's reasons for the policy which he pursued 
were quite satisfactory ; the chief of which was, that Mr. 
Van Buren, when Secretary of State, had instructed Mr 
McClean, his predecessor, to make a distinction between 
his country and his party; to give the latter the pre- 
eminence in his relations with foreign powers ; to convince 
the English Government that their own interests required 
that they should aid in maintaining the ascendency of that 
party ; and thus to make ignoble and despicable conces- 
sions to Great Britain. These reasons for opposing the 
confirmation of Mr. Van Buren Mr. Webster openly and 
fearlessly avowed in the Senate. Even Mr. Calhoun co- 
incided with him ; and the supple nominee of the President 
was successfully resisted, and eventually recalled. 

In May, 1832, Mr. Webster made an important speech 
in the Senate in favor of the bill which had been intro- 
duced by Mr. Dallas for the renewal of the charter of the 
United States Bank ; and he stated clearly and con- 
clusively the reasons why he supported an institution in 
this case which he had formerly so bitterly opposed. It 
was because the principles upon which the two institutions 
were to be founded were totally different and antagonistic. 
The bank which he defended Jackson and Calhoun had 
themselves formerly opposed ; and the reason for their 
change of policy was the same, — a fundamental difference 
in the nature of the several institutions. The charter of 
the bank was renewed in spite of the veto of the Pre- 
sident ; and its operation was found to be in the highest 
degree beneficial. But the foiled Executive had in reserve 
an expedient by which he still determined to crush u the 
monster," and thus indirectly attain the result in which 
he had been ignominiously defeated. This expedient was 
the removal of the deposits of the moneys of the Govern- 



100 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

ment from the vaults of the general bank and their dis- 
tribution among certain favorite State banks. The charter 
of the bank itself provided that the public moneys should 
be deposited therein, subject to removal by the Secretary 
of the Treasury, on grounds which were to be submitted 
to Congress. In 1832, Congress had adopted a resolution 
to the effect that, in their judgment, the deposits were 
secure while in the custody of the bank. But this recom- 
mendation availed nothing with the President ; and he 
proceeded to execute his purpose. The Secretary of the 
Treasury then in office, Mr. McClean, declined to make 
the order necessary for the legal transfer. He was at once 
removed, and Mr. Duane, of Philadelphia, was appointed 
to fill his place and perform his functions. That enlight- 
ened statesman readily perceived the appalling conse- 
quences which would ensue from the execution of the 
measure, and declined to accede to the demand of the 
President. He was also unceremoniously dismissed, and 
Mr. Taney, subsequently the Chief- Justice of the United 
States, became his substitute. This gentleman had no 
scruples in reference to the measure. The deposits of the 
Government funds were then withdrawn from the capacious 
maw of the monster. Immediately those terrible results 
ensued which every intelligent and impartial observer had 
anticipated. So vast and sudden a demand being made 
upon the bank, it was compelled to collect all its claims and 
resources from the smaller banks throughout the country 
with equal precipitancy; the latter were constrained to 
be equally peremptory and stringent with their nume- 
rous customers and debtors ; and thus the fatal blow was 
felt throughout every rank and class in the nation ; for 
it was impossible to meet so many requisitions upon so 
slight a notice. Repudiation ensued, from the highest 
to the lowest, and universal bankruptcy threatened the 



OF DANIEL WE13STER. .101 

nation. Great as were the social and commercial dis- 
asters which then threw so dark a pall of gloom over the 
whole Confederacy, it may be a matter of reasonable and 
just surprise that the entire fabric of the Government was 
not shattered in ruins to the earth. 

Mr. Webster delivered several very able speeches in the 
Senate in regard to the removal of the deposits, and in 
reprobation of that rash and pernicious act. Favorable op- 
portunities for so doing constantly occurred, in consequence 
of the great number of petitions and memorials condemning 
the act, which poured in upon Congress from all parts of 
the country. In one of the most conclusive and unanswer- 
able of these speeches, he uses the following language : 

" The Senate regarded this interposition as an encroach- 
ment by the Executive on other branches of the Govern- 
ment, — as an interference with the legislative disposition 
of the public treasure. It was strongly and forcibly urged, 
yesterday, by the honorable member from South Carolina, 
that the true and only mode of preserving any balance of 
power, in mixed governments, is to keep an exact balance. 
This is very true ; and to this end encroachment must be 
resisted at the first step. The question is, therefore, 
whether, upon the true principles of the Constitution, this 
exercise of power by the President can be justified. 
Whether the consequences be prejudicial or not, if there 
be an illegal exercise of power, it is to be resisted in the 
proper manner. Even if no harm or inconvenience result 
from transgressing the boundary, the intrusion is not to be 
suffered to pass unnoticed. Every encroachment, great or 
small, is important enough to awaken the attention of 
those who are intrusted with the preservation of a con- 
stitutional government. We are not to wait till great 
public mischiefs come, till the government is overthrown, 
or liberty itself put into extreme jeopardy. We should 

9* 



1-02 xlIE LIFE AND TIMES 

not be worthy sons of our fathers were we so to regard 
great questions affecting the general freedom. Those 
fathers accomplished the Revolution on a strict question 
of principle. The Parliament of Great Britain asserted a 
right to tax the colonies in all cases whatsoever ; and it 
was precisely on this question that they made the Revolu- 
tion turn. The amount of taxation was trifling, but the 
claim itself was inconsistent with liberty ; and that was, 
in their eyes, enough. It was against the recital of an act 
of Parliament, rather than against any suffering under its 
enactments, that they took up arms. They went to war 
against a preamble. They fought seven years against a 
declaration. They poured out their treasures and their 
blood like water, in a contest against an assertion ivhieh 
those less sagacious and not so well schooled in the prin- 
ciples of civil liberty would have regarded as barren 
phraseology, or mere parade of words. They saw in the 
claim of the British Parliament a seminal principle of 
mischief, the germ of unjust power : they detected it, 
dragged it forth from underneath its plausible disguises, 
struck at it ; nor did it elude either their steady eye or 
their well-directed blow till they had extirpated and de- 
stroyed it, to the smallest fibre. On this question of 
principle, while actual suffering was yet afar off, they 
raised their flag against a power to which, for purposes 
of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome, in the height 
of her glory, is not to be compared ; a power which has 
dotted over the surface of the whole .globe with her pos- 
sessions and military posts, whose morning drum-beat, 
following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, 
circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain 
of the martial airs of England." 

Another subject of general interest which occupied the 
attention of the nation and of her leading statesmen during 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. ±03 

the second term of President Jackson was the suppression 
of the Nullification tendencies of South Carolina. No 
sooner was he re-elected in the fall of 1832 than the people 
of that State, foreseeing the probable continuance of the 
protective policy of the Government, became greatly ex- 
cited and incensed against it. Meetings were held through- 
out the State, and an ordinance was adopted in a General 
Convention, declaring the existing tariff unconstitutional, 
and proclaiming the intention of South Carolina, as an 
independent sovereign state, to resist any attempt which 
might be made by the officers of the Federal Government 
within her limits to collect the taxes accruing from its pro- 
visions. The Legislature of the State soon afterward met, 
ratified the ordinance, declared the tariff to be uncon- 
stitutional, null arid void, and ordered the militia and 
other military forces of the commonwealth to hold them- 
selves in readiness to oppose the aggressions of the General 
Government. The excitement and hostile ardour pervaded 
the whole State. Mr. Calhoun resigned the Vice-Presidency 
and took his seat in the Senate. He had not yet arrived in 
Washington ; and the report prevailed that General Jackson 
had resolved to arrest him, on the charge of treason, while 
on his way to the capital. Mr. Webster opposed and con- 
demned the conduct of the President as premature and 
precipitate, as calculated to do more harm than good, 
and as stretching his prerogatives to an undue length. 
The contest between the State and Federal Governments 
became more bitter and perilous from day to day. A pro- 
clamation issued by the President against the " NullifieiV 
was answered by a counter-proclamation sent forth by Mr. 
Hayne, then Governor of South Carolina. Officers of the 
American army and navy were ordered to hold themselves 
in readiness to march at a moment's warning ; and General 
Scott was sent to Charleston to take such steps as seemed 



104 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

to be necessary to crush the spirit of rebellion and 
treason. 

Meanwhile, this frightful state of discord and threatened 
disunion became the subject of discussion in Congress. On 
the 21st of January, Mr. Wilkins, of Pennsylvania, offered 
a .bill which proposed to make further and more efficient 
provision for the collection of the revenues, and authorized 
the President to crush all resistance to the execution of 
the revenue-laws of the United States by summoning to 
his aid all the military resources of the Confederacy. 
During the discussion of this bill, Mr. Calhoun delivered 
one of his ablest and most profound arguments in favor 
of the doctrine of iSullification, and in defence of the 
policy pursued by South Carolina. His speech was heard 
in the Senate, and subsequently read throughout the na- 
tion, with the most intense interest ; and it was worthy to 
elicit the masterly effort of Mr. Webster by which it was 
most triumphantly answered. After explaining the doc- 
trine of Mr. Calhoun clearly and distinctly, Mr. Webster 
continued as follows : 

"Beginning with the original error, that the Constitu- 
tion of the United States is nothing but a compact between 
sovereign States ; asserting, in the next step, that each 
State has a right to be its own sole judge of the extent 
of its own obligations, and, consequently, of the constitu- 
tionality of laws of Congress ; and in the next, that it 
may oppose whatever it sees fit to declare unconstitutional, 
and that it decides for itself on the mode and measure of 
redress, the argument arrives at once at the conclusion 
that what a State dissents from, it may nullify ; what it 
opposes, it may oppose by force ; what it decides for itself, 
it may execute by its own power ; and that, in short, it is 
itself supreme over the legislation of Congress, and supreme 
over the decisions of the national judicature, — supreme 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 105 

over the Constitution of the country, — supreme over the 
supreme law of the land. However it seeks to protect 
itself against these plain inferences by saying that an 
unconstitutional law is no law, and that it only opposes 
such laws as are unconstitutional, yet this does not in the 
slightest degree vary the result, since it insists on deciding 
this question for itself, and, in opposition to reason and 
argument, in opposition to practice and experience, in op- 
position to the judgment of others having an equal right 
to judge, it says only, ' Such is my opinion ; and my 
opinion shall be my law, and I will support it by my own 
strong hand. I denounce the law. I declare it uncon- 
stitutional : that is enough : it shall not be executed. Men 
in arms are ready to resist its execution. An attempt to 
enforce it shall cover the land with blood. Elsewhere it 
may be binding ; but here it is trampled under foot.' 
This, sir, is practical nullification." 

Against these positions Mr. Webster laid down a system 
embodied in the following propositions : 

I. That the Constitution of the United States is not a 
league, confederacy or compact between the people of 
the several States in their sovereign capacities, but a 
Government proper, founded on the adoption of the people, 
and creating direct relations between itself and individuals. 

II. That no State authority has power to dissolve those 
relations ; that nothing can dissolve them but revolution ; 
and that, consequently, there can be no such thing as 
secession without revolution. 

III. That there is a supreme law, consisting of the Con- 
stitution of the United States, acts of Congress passed in 
pursuance of it, and treaties; and that, in cases not 
capable of assuming the character of a suit in law or 
equity, Congress must judge of, and finally interpret, thia 
supreme law, so often as it has occasion to pass acts of 



i 



10b THE LIFE AND TIMES 

legislation ; and in cases capable of assuming, and actually 
assuming, the character of a suit, the Supreme Court of the 
United States is the final interpreter. 

IV. That an attempt by a State to abrogate, annul or 
nullify an act of Congress, or to arrest its operation within 
her limits, on the ground that, in her opinion, such law is 
unconstitutional, is a direct usurpation on the just powers 
of the General Government and on the equal rights of 
other States, a plain violation of the Constitution, and a 
proceeding essentially revolutionary in its character and 
tendency. 

The bill which called forth this majestic intellectual tilt 
between Mr. Webster and Mr. Calhoun finally passed by an 
almost unanimous vote, John Tyler, of Virginia, being one 
of the few Senators who gave their ballots against it. Even 
those Southern representatives who had spoken in opposi- 
tion to the bill, and in favor of the principle of Nullifica- 
tion, took occasion to absent themselves when the vote was 
taken. Mr. Webster's conduct during this crisis gained 
him the general applause of the nation ; and the President 
felt himself under such great obligations to him for his effi- 
cient aid that he made advances to him of a most friendly 
nature ; and a report was prevalent at the time that a seat 
in the Cabinet was offered him but declined. Thus was the 
furious Gorgon of Nullification laid to rest, it may be 
hoped, forever, and the perilled harmony and integrity of 
the Union happily preserved and secured ; in the attain- 
ment of which glorious result, Mr. Webster beyond all 
question deserved the chief praise and occupied the most 
prominent place. 

In November, 1836, Martin Van Buren was elected 
President, as successor to General Jackson. The first 
subject which demanded the attention of the new adminis- 
tration was the currency-question; for the financial embar- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 107 

rassments of the country were still a matter of grave 
concern to all classes of the community. Mr. Van Buren 
was in every sense the partisan and the patron of the 
policy which had been pursued by General Jackson. In 
March, 1837, Mr. Webster delivered an address to the 
citizens of New York, in Niblo's Saloon, which set forth in 
the clearest terms the errors and evils of the defunct ad- 
ministration, and inflicted upon its reputation a deadly and 
destructive blow. In that speech he discussed the ques- 
tions of the tariff, internal improvements, the United States 
Bank, the annexation of Texas, and other leading themes. 
Mr. Van Buren went into office on the 4th of March, 1837 ; 
and one of his first acts was to summon an extra session 
of Congress, to provide for the serious perils which seemed 
to overhang the community in consequence of the simulta- 
neous suspension of many banks throughout the country. 
This very movement was in itself an acknowledgment that 
the measures of the preceding administration had been so 
disastrous in their effects as to demand a remedy. The 
extra session met in September, 1837. Meanwhile, Mr. 
Van Buren had devised a new and peculiar plan, by which 
he hoped to promote the financial interests of the country, 
well, known under the epithet of the Sub-Treasury Scheme. 
The intention or operation of this expedient was to accumu- 
late and disburse the funds of the General Government, 
without the intervention or the aid of any bank whatever. 
The President also proposed to withhold from the States 
the fourth instalment of the surplus revenue which was 
then due them. Mr. Webster resolutely condemned and 
opposed both of these measures; and on the 28th of 
September he delivered a speech which embodied his 
opinions on the subject, in which the following passage 
occurs : 

The Government of the United States completed the 



108 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

forty-eighth year of its existence under its present Con- 
stitution on the 3d day of March last. During this whole 
period, it has felt itself bound to take proper care of the 
currency of the country ; and no administration has ad- 
mitted this obligation more clearly or more frequently than 
the last. For the fulfilment of this acknowledged duty, 
as well as to accomplish other useful purposes, a national 
bank has been maintained for forty out of these forty-eight 
years. Two institutions of this kind have been created by 
law ; one commencing in 1791, and, being limited to twenty 
years, expiring in 1811 ; the other commencing in 1816, 
with a like term of duration, and ending, therefore, in 
1836. Both these institutions, each in its time, accom- 
plished their purposes, so far as the currency was con- 
cerned, to the general satisfaction of the country. Before 
the last bank expired, it had the misfortune to incur the 
enmity of the late administration. I need not at present 
speak of the causes of this hostility. My purpose only 
requires a statement of that fact, as an important one in 
the chain of occurrences. The late President's dissatisfac- 
tion with the bank was intimated in his first annual mes- 
sage, that is to say, in 1829. But the bank stood very 
well with the country, the President's known and growing 
hostility notwithstanding, and in 1832, four years before its 
charter was to expire, both Houses of Congress passed a 
bill for its continuance, there being in its favor a large 
majority of the Senate, and a larger majority of the House 
of Representatives. The bill, however, was negatived by 
the President. In 1833, by an order of the President, 
the public moneys were removed from the custody of the 
bank and were deposited with certain select State banks. 
This removal was accompanied with the most confident 
declarations and assurances, put forth in every form, by 
the President and the Secretary of the Treasury, that 



c 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 109 

these State banks would not only prove safe depositories 
of the public money, but that they would also furnish the 
country with as good a currency as it ever had enjoyed, 
and probably a better ; and would also accomplish all that 
could be wished in regard to domestic exchanges. The 
substitution of State banks for a national institution, for 
the discharge of these duties, was that operation which has 
become known, and is likely to be long remembered, as the 
1 Experiment.' 

" For some years all was said to go on extremely well, 
although it seemed plain enough to a great part of the 
lommunity that the system was radically vicious ; that its 
operations were all inconvenient, clumsy, and wholly 
inadequate to the proposed ends ; and that, sooner or later, 
there must be an explosion. The administration, however, 
adhered to its experiment. The more it was complained 
of by the people, the louder it was praised by the admi- 
nistration. Its commendation was one of the standing 
topics of all official communications ; and in his last mes- 
sage, in December, 1836, the late President was more than 
usually emphatic upon the great success of his attempts to 
improve the currency, and the happy results of the experi- 
ment upon the important business of exchange. 

" But a reverse was at hand. The ripening glories of 
the experiment were soon to meet a dreadful blighting. 
In the early part of May last, these banks all stopped 
payment. This event, of course, produced great distress 
in the country, and it produced also singular embarrass- 
ment to the administration. The present administration 
was then only two months old; but it had already become 
formally pledged to maintain the policy of that which had. 
gone before it. The President had avowed his purpose of 
treading in the footsteps of his predecessor. Here, then, 

was the difficulty. Here was a political knot, to be either 

10 



110 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

untied or cut. The experiment had failed, and failed, as 
it was thought, so utterly and hopelessly, that it could not 
be tried again. 

" What, then, was to be done ? Committed against a 
bank of the United States in the strongest manner, and 
the substitute, from which so much was expected, having 
disappointed all hopes, what was the administration to do ? 
Two distinct classes of duties had been performed, in times 
past, by the Bank of the United States ; one more imme- 
diately to the Government, the other to the community. 
The first was the safe-keeping and the transfer, when 
required, of the public moneys ; the other, the supplying 
of a sound and convenient paper currency, of equal credit 
all over the country, and everywhere equivalent to specie, 
and the giving of most important facilities to the opera- 
tions of exchange. These objects were highly important, 
and their perfect accomplishment by the - experiment' had 
been promised from the first. The State banks, it was 
declared, could perform all these duties, and should perform 
them. But the ' experiment' came to a dishonored end in 
the early part of last May. The deposit-banks, with the 
others, stopped payment. They could not render back the 
deposits ; and so far from being able to furnish a general 
currency, or to assist exchanges, (purposes, indeed, which 
they never had fulfilled with any success,) their paper 
became immediately depreciated, even in its local circula- 
tion. What course, then, was the administration now to 
adopt ? Why, sir, it is plain that it had but one alterna- 
tive. It must either return to the former practice of the 
Government, take the currency into its own hands, and 
maintain it, as well as provide for the safe-keeping of the 
public money by some institution of its own ; or else, 
adopting some new mode of merely keeping the public 
/Doney, it must abandon all further care over currency and 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. Ill 

exchange. One of these courses became inevitable. The 
administration had no other choice. The State banks 
could be no longer tried, with the opinion which the admi- 
nistration now entertained of them ; and how else could 
any thing be done to maintain the currency ? In no way 
but by the establishment of a national institution. 

" There was no escape from this dilemma. One course 
was, to go back to that which the party had so much con- 
demned ; the other, to give up the whole duty, and leave 
the currency to its fate. Between these two, the adminis- 
tration found itself absolutely obliged to decide; and it 
has decided, and decided boldly. It has decided to sur- 
render the duty, and abandon the Constitution. That deci- 
sion is before us, in the message, and in the measures now 
under consideration. The choice has been made ; and 
that choice, in my opinion, raises a question of the utmost 
importance to the people of this country, both for the pre- 
sent and all future time. That question is, Whether Con* 
gress has, or ought to have, any duty to perform, in rela- 
tion to the currency of the country, beyond the mere 
regulation of the gold and silver." 

During the regular session of 1837-38 Mr. Webster 
again came in conflict with the potent champion of South 
Carolina, Mr. Calhoun. The latter introduced a series of 
resolutions in the Senate, the purport of which was to 
condemn any interference by Congress with the institution 
of slavery in the District of Columbia ; and to assert that 
the intermeddling of any State or its citizens with slavery 
either in that District or in any of the Territories, on the 
ground that it was immoral or sinful, would be a direct 
attack on the rights and institutions of all the slaveholding 
States. Mr. Clay offered an amendment to the resolution 
of Mr. Calhoun which added that such interference would 
be in effect a violation of the faith implied and pledged to 



112 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

the States of Virginia and Maryland when they ceded 
the territory of the District to the General Government. 
Both of these propositions Mr. Webster opposed in the 
Senate, and held that Congress possessed the constitutional 
right to abolish slavery in the District, and that in this 
respect the powers of Congress were unlimited and unre- 
stricted. In the preceding March he had presented several 
petitions praying for the abolition of slavery in the Dis- 
trict, and had then expressly asserted the power of Con- 
gress over slavery in the District. On the present occasion, 
after the debate had progressed during some days, he 
delivered one of his most powerful arguments in support 
of his opinions, and in reply to a great effort made by Mr. 
Clay on the opposite side of the question. This speech 
deserves to rank among his acknowledged masterpieces. 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 113 



CHAPTER IX. 

Mr. Webster's Visit to England — Election of General Harrison to the 
Presidency — His Death — Accession of Mr. Tyler — The " Treaty of 
Washington" — Its Various Provisions — Ability displayed by Mr. Web- 
ster as a Diplomatist — Approval of the Treaty by Congress and the 
Executive — ',' Impressment" — Great Oration of Mr. Webster in Faneuil 
Hall — Extract from the Speech — Hostility of C. J. Ingersoll to Mr 
Webster — Mr. Webster's Retort upon him. 

In the spring of 1839 Mr. Webster gratified his very 
natural desire of seeing the Old World, and of enjoying 
the pleasures and vicissitudes of travel, by making a voyage 
to Europe. During the summer of that year he visited a 
large portion of England, Scotland and France. As may 
readily be supposed, his fame as the first and greatest of 
American orators and statesmen had preceded him, and 
he was greeted with applause and a hearty welcome 
wherever he went. Among the public festivals which he 
attended by invitation was the First Triennial Celebration 
of the Royal Agricultural Society at Oxford. He received 
many invitations to proffered hospitality from the most 
distinguished and cultivated personages in England. No 
American traveller had ever been honored with greater 
marks of consideration in that country than was he.. 
During his tour he paid special attention to the agriculture 
and the currency of England, as well as its commerce and 
manufactures. Having at length returned home, he is 
said to have declared, with patriotic pride and pleasure, 
that he was more of an American than ever ; and that he 
entertained a higher estimate than before of his country's 
real greatness and glory. 

10* 



114 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

In 1840 General Harrison was elected to the Presi- 
dency ; and that venerable hero, as one of his first official 
acts, tendered to Mr. Webster the choice of a place in his 
Cabinet. The President desired that he would select the 
Secretaryship of the Treasury ; but Mr. Webster, for 
various satisfactory reasons, chose the Secretaryship of 
State and the control of foreign affairs. He was led to 
prefer this post inasmuch as he believed that he could be 
more useful to the country therein, in settling several im- 
portant and difficult questions which at that time were 
litigated between the United States and Great Britain. 
He accordingly assumed the duties of the office ; and the 
first question of grave difficulty which engaged his atten- 
tion was the adjusting of the boundary-line between the 
northern limit of the Confederacy and Canada. 

In the summer of 1841, Mr. Webster received the per- 
mission of Mr. Tyler, who had succeeded General Har- 
rison in the Presidency, in consequence of the death of the 
latter, to address a note to Mr. Fox, in which he informed 
him that the United States Government were prepared and 
willing to commence negotiations for the purpose of settling 
all the disputes existing between it and the English Govern- 
ment. Soon afterward Sir Robert Peel became British 
Premier, and Lord Aberdeen, the Secretary of Foreign 
Affairs, immediately informed Mr. Everett, American mi- 
nister at the Court of St. James, that the Government of 
England had resolved to despatch Lord Ashburton as a 
special minister to the United States to confer with Mr. 
Webster in the settlement of all existing or apprehended 
difficulties between the two Governments. Lord Ashburton 
arrived at Washington on the 6th of April, 1842; and 
Mr. Webster sent a communication to the Governors of 
Maine and Massachusetts, informing them of the arrival 
of the British plenipotentiary, and requesting them to ap- 



OE DANIEL WEBSTER. 115 

point commissioners to assist in settling the disputed m&tter 
of the Northern boundary. The Executives of those two 
States immediately complied with the suggestion of Mr. 
Webster, and the commissioners selected by them arrived 
in the Federal capital in June, 1842. The northeastern, 
northwestern, and much of the intervening portions of the 
line which separated the territorial possessions of the two 
countries had never been really determined. From New 
Brunswick to the distant Pacific coast, disputed territories 
of vast extent were claimed by both nations, upon some of 
which American citizens had located and rights had been 
already vested, on the supposition that the soil was under 
the jurisdiction of their native Government ; and in other 
places settlements had been made by British subjects under 
a similar impression. The question of settlement had be- 
come intricate ; and the adjustment of it was a task of 
great delicacy and difficulty. 

After four months of incessant labor, a treaty was agreed 
upon, familiarly known in American history as the " Ash- 
burton treaty," but technically and properly termed the 
"Treaty of Washington," by which this point and several 
others w^e judiciously settled. This treaty definitely 
fixed the boundary between the United States and the 
British possessions in North America along the whole line 
from Nova Scotia to the St. Lawrence River, thence along 
that river and through the great chain of lakes to the 
head-waters of Lake Superior, and thence over a vast area 
four thousand miles in extent, over mountains and primeval 
forests and pathless plains, to the foot of the Rocky Moun- 
tains. 

Another question which engaged the attention of the 
diplomatists on this occasion was the African slave-trade, 
which had been pronounced piracy by both Governments. 
England had adopted the policy of declaring those slaves 



116 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

free which might be thrown upon her West India settle- 
ments by stress of weather and other irresistible causes ; 
authorizing her local authorities at once to free all such 
slaves from the control of their masters whenever they 
were thus placed involuntarily within the jurisdiction of 
British law. This was regarded by American citizens and 
slave-owners as an unjust interpretation of the provisions 
of the celebrated " Quintuple Treaty," adopted in De- 
cember, 1841, by England, France, Austria, Prussia and 
Russiaj one of the provisions of which referred to the 
right of search of vessels suspected of being engaged in 
the African slave-trade. The eighth article of the treaty 
of "Washington settled this matter on an equitable and 
permanent basis. It provided as follows : 

"The parties mutually stipulate," says the article men- 
tioned, " that each shall prepare, equip and maintain in 
service, on the coast of Africa, a sufficient and adequate 
squadron, or naval force of vessels, of suitable numbers 
and descriptions, to carry in all not less than eight guns, 
to enforce, separately and respectively, the laws, rights, 
and obligations of each of the two countries for the sup- 
pression of the slave-trade ; the said squadrons to be inde- 
pendent of each other, but the two Governments stipu- 
lating, nevertheless, to give such orders to the officers 
commanding their respective forces as shall enable them 
most effectually to act in concert and co-operation, upon 
mutual consultations, as exigencies may arise, for the 
attainment of the true object of this article ; copies of all 
such orders to be communicated by each Government to 
the other, respectively." 

The third point of main importance in this celebrated' 
treaty referred to the extradition of fugitives from justice. 
Ever since the foundation of the American Confederacy 
its territories had been the secure refuge of innumerable 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 117 

and grave offenders against British law ; and the Canadas 
contained a vast number of fugitives from justice from the 
United States. It will be apparent to every observer how 
important and desirable a compact between the two Go- 
vernments would be, by which the offenders against theii 
respective laws would be apprehended and delivered over 
to the arm of justice. The tenth article of the treaty 
settled the matter satisfactorily as follows : 

"It is agreed," says that document, "that the United 
States and her Britannic Majesty shall, upon mutual 
requisitions by them, or their ministers, officers or author- 
ities, respectively made, deliver up to justice all persons 
who, being charged with the crime of murder, or assault 
with intent to commit murder, or piracy, or arson, or rob- 
bery, or forgery, or the utterance of forged papers, com- 
mitted within the jurisdiction of either, shall seek an 
asylum, or shall be found, within the territories of the 
other : provided that this shall only be done upon such 
evidence of criminality as, according to the laws of the 
place where the fugitive or person so charged shall be 
found, would justify his apprehension and commitment for 
trial if the crime or offence had there been committed; 
and the respective judges and other magistrates of the two 
Governments shall have power, jurisdiction and authority, 
upon complaint made under oath, to issue a warrant for 
the apprehension of the fugitive or person so charged, that 
he may be brought before such judges or other magistrates, 
respectively, to the end that the evidence of criminality 
may be heard and considered ; and if, on such hearing, 
the evidence be deemed sufficient to sustain the charge, it 
shall be the duty of the examining judge or magistrate to 
certify the same to the proper executive authority, that a 
warrant may issue for the surrender of such iugKwe. The 
expense of such apprehension and delivery ohall fc? borno 



118 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

by the party who makes the requisition and receives the 

fugitive." 

This treaty was communicated to the Senate on the 11th 
of August, 1842, and on motion of Mr. Rives, of Virginia, 
it was referred to the Committee of Foreign Affairs. It 
was reported back again to the Senate without amendment; 
and on the 20th of August, after an ample discussion of 
its provisions, it was ratified by the Senate by a vote of 
thirty-nine to nine, and in the House by a still greater 
majority. Among the Senators who voted against the 
treaty were Messrs. Benton and Buchanan. The American 
people throughout the vast extent of their empire approved 
the treaty by an almost unanimous voice ; and the fame 
of Mr. Webster, as the diplomatist who had conducted and 
completed the negotiations so successfully, was lauded from 
one ocean to the other, as having deserved well of his 
fellow-citizens by his consummate skill in securing the 
just claims of his country in opposition to the encroach- 
ments of an ambitious and envious foreign power. 

Another bone of controversy still existed between the 
two countries which had not been brought within the range 
of the stipulations of the treaty. This was the doctrine 
of impressment, which had, as it was asserted by Great 
Britain, been the real cause of the war of 1812. This 
point had not been included in the treaty of Washington, 
because Lord Ashburton had received no instructions on 
the subject. Mr. Webster, however, addressed a letter to 
the British representative, in which he discussed the whole 
matter at length. In this able and unanswerable com- 
munication the following passage occurs : 

"We have had several conversations," he says, "on the 
subject of impressment ; but I do not understand that your 
lordship has instructions from your Government to nego- 
tiate upon it; nor does the Government of the United 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 119 

States see any utility in opening such negotiation, unless 
the British Government is prepared to renounce the prac- 
tice in all future wars. 

" No cause has produced, to so great an extent and for 
so long a period, disturbing and irritating influences in the 
political relations of the United States and England, as 
the impressment of seamen by British cruisers from Ame- 
rican merchant-vessels. 

" From the commencement of the French Revolution to 
the breaking out of the war between the two countries in 
1812, hardly a year elapsed without loud complaint and 
earnest remonstrance. A deep feeling of opposition to 
the right claimed, and to the practice exercised under it, — 
and not unfrequently exercised without the least regard to 
what justice and humanity would have dictated, even if 
the right itself had been admitted, — took possession of the 
public mind of America ; and this feeling, it is well known, 
co-operated most powerfully with other causes to produce 
the state of hostilities which ensued. 

" At different periods, both before and since the war, 
negotiations have taken place between the two Govern- 
ments, with the hope of finding some means of quieting 
these complaints. At some times the effectual abolition 
of the practice has been requested and treated of; at other 
times, its temporary suspension ; and at other times, again, 
the limitation of its exercise, and some security against its 
enormous abuses. 

" A common destiny has attended these efforts. They 
have all failed. The question stands at this moment where 
it stood fifty years ago. The nearest approach to a set- 
tlement was a convention proposed in 1803, and which had 
come to the point of signature, when it was broken off in 
consequence of the British Government insisting that the 
narrow seas should be expressly excepted out of the sphere 



120 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

over which the contemplated stipulation against impress- 
ment should extend. The American minister, Mr. King, 
regarded this exception as quite inadmissible, and chose 
rather to abandon the negotiation than to acquiesce in the 
doctrine which it proposed to establish." 

The claim set up by England is then clearly stated : — 
" England asserts the right of impressing British subjects, 
in time of war, out of neutral merchant-vessels, and of 
deciding, by her visiting-officers, who among the crews of 
such merchant-vessels are British subjects. She asserts 
this as a legal exercise of the prerogative of the Crown, 
which prerogative is alleged to be founded on the English 
law of the perpetual and indissoluble allegiance of the 
subject, and his obligation, under all circumstances, and 
for his whole life, to render military service to the Crown 
whenever required." 

Lord Ashburton received the communication of Mr. 
Webster with great deference, and assured him that it 
should be sent to the Government which he represented, 
and that it should receive that grave consideration which 
it deserved. 

Mr. Webster at this period incurred the indignation of 
a certain 'portion of American citizens because, when the 
whole of Mr. Tyler's Cabinet resigned in disgust at an 
early period of his administration, he alone saw fit to re- 
tain his post as Secretary of State. It was thought that 
this was a discreditable proof of a thirst for the dignities 
and emoluments of office, which was not very honorable 
in him. A portion of these censors resided in Massachu- 
setts. To rebut and reprove their unjust charges, Mr. 
Webster addressed a meeting of the citizens of Boston in 
Faneuil Hall on the 30th of September, 1842, and tri- 
umphantly vindicated himself from their aspersions. In 
the course of this able effort he expressed himself in the 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 121 

following language, and began by saying : " I know not 
how it is, Mr. Mayor, but there is something in the echoes 
of these walls, or in this sea of upturned faces which I 
behold before me, or in the genius that always hovers 
over this place, fanning ardent and patriotic feeling by 
every motion of its wings, — I know not how it is, but 
there is something that excites me strangely, deeply, be- 
fore I even begin to speak." Having alluded to other 
minor topics, he continued : 

" There were many persons, in September, 1841," said 
the orator, " who found great fault with my remaining 
in the President's Cabinet. You know, gentlemen, that 
twenty years of honest, and not always of undistinguished 
service in the Whig cause, did not save me from an out- 
pouring of wrath which seldom proceeds from Whig pens 
and Whig tongues against anybody. I am, gentleman, a 
little hard to coax, but as to being driven, that is out of 
the question. I chose to trust my own judgment; and, 
thinking I was at a post where I was in the service of the 
country and could do it good, I stayed there. And I leave 
it to you to-day to say, I leave it to my country to say, 
whether the country would have been better off if I had 
left also. I have no attachment to office. I have tasted of 
its sweets, but I have tasted of its bitterness. I am con- 
tent with what I have achieved ; I am more ready to rest 
satisfied with what is gained than to run the risk of 
doubtful efforts for new acquisition. 

" I suppose I ought to pause here. I ought, perhaps, 

to allude to nothing more ; and I will not allude to any 

thing further than it may be supposed to concern myself, 

directly or by implication. Gentlemen, and Mr. Mayor, 

a most respectable convention of Whig delegates met in 

this place a few days since, and passed very important 

resolutions. There is no set of gentlemen in the common- 

11 



122 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

wealth, so far as I know them, who have more of my respect 
and regard. They are Whigs, but they are no better Whigs 
than I am. They have served the country in the Whig 
ranks ; so have I, quite as long as most of them, though 
perhaps with less ability and success. Their resolutions 
on political subjects, as representing the Whigs of the 
State, are entitled to respect, so far as they were author- 
ized to express opinion on those subjects, and no further. 
They were sent hither, as I supposed, to agree upon 
candidates for the offices of Governor and Lieutenant- 
Governor for the support of the Whigs of Massachusetts ; 
and if they had any authority to speak in the name of 
the Whigs of Massachusetts to any other purport or intent, 
I have not been informed of it. I feel very little dis- 
turbed by any of those proceedings, of whatever nature ; 
but some of them appear to me to have been inconsiderate 
and hasty, and their point and bearing can hardly be mis- 
taken. I notice, among others, a declaration made, in 
behalf of all the Whigs of this commonwealth, of ' a full and 
final separation from the President of the United States.' 
If those gentlemen saw fit to express their own sentiments 
to that extent, there was no objection. Whigs speak 
their sentiments everywhere ; but whether they may as- 
sume a privilege to speak for others on a point on which 
those others have not given them authority, is another 
question. I am a Whig, I always have been a Whig, and 
I always will be one ; and if there are any who would turn 
me out of the pale of that communion, let them see who 
will get out first. I am a Massachusetts Whig, a Faneuil 
Hall Whig, having breathed this air for five-and-twenty 
years, and meaning to breathe it as long as my life is 
spared. I am ready to submit to all decisions of Whig 
conventions on subjects on which they are authorized to 
make decisions; I know that great party good and great 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 123 

public good can only be so obtained. But it is quite 
another question whether a set of gentlemen, however 
respectable they may be as individuals, shall have the 
power to bind me on matters which I have not agreed to 
submit to their decision at all. 

" ' A full and final separation* is declared between the 
Whig party of Massachusetts and the President. That is 
the text : it requires a commentary. What does it mean ? 
The President of the United States has three years of 
his term of office yet unexpired. Does this declaration 
mean, then, that during those three years all the measures 
of his administration are to be opposed by the great 
body of the Whig party of Massachusetts, whether they 
are right or wrong ? There are great public interests 
which require his attention. If the President of the 
United States should attempt, by negotiation, or by 
earnest and serious application to Congress, to make some 
change in the present arrangements, such as should be of 
service to those interests of navigation which are con- 
cerned in the colonial trade, are the Whigs of Massachu- 
setts to give him neither aid nor succor ? If the President 
of the United States shall direct the proper department 
to review the whole commercial policy of the United 
States, in respect of reciprocity in the indirect trade, to 
which so much of our tonnage is now sacrificed, if the 
amendment of this policy shall be undertaken by him, is 
there such a separation between him and the Whigs of Massa- 
chusetts as shall lead them and their representatives to 
oppose it ? Do you know (there are gentleman now here 
who do know) that a large proportion — I rather think more 
than one-half — of the carrying trade between the Empire 
of Brazil and the United States is enjoyed by tonnage 
from the North of Europe, in consequence of this ill-con- 
sidered principle with regard to reciprocity ? You might 



124 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

just as well admit them into the coasting-trade. By this 
arrangement we take the bread out of our children's 
mouths and give it to strangers. I appeal to you, sir, 
[turning to Captain Benjamin Rich, who sat by him,] is 
not this true? [Mr. Rich at once replied, "True!" Is 
every measure of this sort, for the relief of such abuses, 
to be rejected ? Are we to suffer ourselves to remain in- 
active under evei'Y grievance of this kind until these three 
years shall expire, and through as many more as shall 
pass until Providence shall bless us with more power of 
doing good than we have now ? 

" Again : there are now in this State persons employed 
under Government, allowed to be pretty good Whigs, still 
holding their offices, — collectors, district-attorneys, post- 
masters, marshals. "What is to become of them in this 
separation ? Which side are they to fall ? Are they to 
resign ? or is this resolution to be held up to Government 
as an invitation or a provocation to turn them out ? Our 
distinguished fellow-citizen who, with so much credit to 
himself and to his country, represents our Government in 
England, — is he expected to come home, on this separa- 
tion, and yield his place to his predecessor, or to some- 
body else ? And in regard to the individual who addresses 
you, — what do his brother Whigs mean to do with him ? 
Where do they mean to place me ? Generally, when a 
divorce takes place, the parties divide their children. I am 
anxious to know where, in the case of this divorce, I shall 
fall. This declaration announces 'a full and final separa- 
tion between the Whigs of Massachusetts and the Pre- 
sident.' If I choose to remain in the President's councils, 
do. these gentlemen mean to say that I cease to be a 
Massachusetts Whig? I am quite ready to put that ques- 
tion to the people of Massachusetts." 

The treaty of Washington, by which the points of dis- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 125 

pute which existed between England and the United States 
had been judiciously settled by Mr. Webster, continued to 
furnish his opponents with a fertile subject of censure and 
abuse ; and in the canvass of 1844 it was made an elec- 
tioneering element. It was not until 1846, when Mr. 
Webster returned to the Senate, that a favorable oppor- 
tunity was offered to vindicate himself and his treaty be- 
fore the whole country. During the session of 1846 
this treaty was again made the theme of discussion in 
Congress; and among those representatives who most 
bitterly condemned and censured it was Mr. Charles J. 
Ingersoll, from Pennsylvania. This gentleman seemed to 
feel a special malignity against Mr. Webster, and ren- 
dered himself prominent in his reprobation of that states- 
man's proceedings and negotiations with the British pleni- 
potentiary. His speech delivered on the occasion clearly 
evinced this sentiment; and proved that he had indus- 
triously collected together all the calumnies and slanders 
which had been uttered in leference to the subject, and 
combined them together in one insane utterance of mingled 
bitterness, falsehood, and imbecility. During the progress 
of the debate Mr. Dickinson, of New York, made a fierce 
attack on Mr. Webster, in a powerful and elaborate 
speech, in which, however, he reproduced and repeated 
some of the inventions of Mr. Ingersoll. The latter 
having thus received the apparent impress of importance 
and authority by being adopted and uttered by Mr. Dickin- 
son, Mr. Webster felt called upon to give the subject a 
formal and thorough discussion in the Senate. On the sixth 
and seventh days of April, he delivered one of his ablest 
efforts. He proved most unanswerably that the north- 
eastern boundary had been fairly and satisfactorily settled; 
that proper satisfaction and apology had been obtained for 
an aggression on the territory of the United States ; that 

11* 



126 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

safe and suitable stipulations had been entered into to se 
cure the fulfilment of the duty of Government in regard 
to the slave-trade ; that crimes disturbing the peace of 
nations had been suppressed ; that the Southern coasting- 
trade had been secured ; that impressment had been abo- 
lished ; and that the honor of the American name had been 
amply vindicated. In addition to all this, he proceeded to 
castigate Mr. Ingersoll with the lash of a Titan, as the 
chief slanderer, who had been most active and indefatigable 
in raking together the manifold and multiform filth in refer- 
ence to him and the treaty, which he had afterward uttered 
in offensive streams in Congress; and he applied to him such 
a discipline of ridicule, sarcasm, and contempt as had never 
before been witnessed in the halls of the Capitol. He 
completely extinguished his enemy ; and so total was his 
political annihilation that, from that hour and beneath that 
gigantic blow, his victim vanished entirely from public 
view and sank into oblivion. 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 12' 



CHAPTER X. 

Temporary Retirement of Mr. Webster from Political Life — His Legal 
Arguments — The Girard Will Case — Suit against the City of Boston — 
■■*, Mr. Webster returns to the Senate — Annexation of Texas — Dispute 
respecting Oregon Territory — The Mexican War — Admission of Cali- 
fornia — The Compromise Measures of Mr. Clay— Mr. Webster's Able 
Speech on the Subject. 

Mr. Webster spent the two succeeding years in absence 
from the national councils, and in the pursuit of his pro- 
fessional engagements at the bar. During this interval he 
was employed in the conduct of several important law- 
suits, which attracted the attention of the whole com- 
munity in consequence of the magnitude of the interests 
involved in them. Several of these assumed the form of 
arguments before the United States Supreme Court at 
Washington. Among the number was the case of Vidal 
and others against the Executors of the Will of Stephen 
Girard, in which property to the value of millions was con- 
cerned. In this memorable case he was opposed by Horace 
Binney of Philadelphia, a jurist who, possessing none of 
the abilities of Mr. Webster as a statesman, was fully his 
equal, and probably his superior, in legal learning. The 
position assumed by J a Webster on this occasion was, 
that Girard College, the 1 - D $f devisee under the will, was 
not a charity, because ep&blished on atheistical principles ; 
and therefore not entitled to the protection of the laws. 
'This position, doubtless the only one upon which an argu- 
ment could possibly be based against the validity of the 



128 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

will, was supported by all the immense resources of erudi 
tion and eloquence which his great mind possessed ; but he 
was manifestly defending the wrong side of the question, 
and so the Supreme Court ultimately decided. Another 
case of importance in which he was concerned was that 
of the Providence Railroad against the City of Boston, 
which was purely an effort of technical learning and re- 
search, from the nature of the interests and the facts 
involved. In JV„e, 1844, Mr. Webster delivered his 
memorable address on the completion of the Bunker Hill 
Monument. He had himself baptized the foundation- 
stone of that colossal shaft several years before, -with a 
torrent of classical eloquence ; and now he breathed upon 
the finished crown of its aspiring head, the inspiration of 
his fervent and sublime benediction. 

One of the most important questions which engaged the 
attention of Congress at this period was the proposed an- 
nexation of the Republic of Texas. Mr. Webster was 
opposed to this measure ; and his opposition was based 
upon the ground that too great an extension of the terri- 
tory of the Confederacy would be injurious to the interests 
and the perpetuity of the Government, and that the true 
welfare of the nation would be more effectually promoted 
by the development of its internal resources than by the 
enlargement of its superficial extent. He adduced other 
objections: 

" In the next place, sir," said the Senator, in giving a 
direct statement of this reason for his opposition, " I have 
co say, that while I hold, with a< ouch integrity, I trust, 
and faithfulness, as any citrc^r . this country, to all the 
original arrangements and cdi* romises under which the 
Constitution under which we now' live was adopted, I never 
could, and never can, persuade myself to be in favor of 
the admission of other States into the Union as slave 



OF DAN TEL WEBSTER. 129 

States, with the inequalities which were allowed and ac- 
corded by the Constitution to the slaveholding States 
then in existence. I do not think that the free States 
ever expected, or could expect, that they would be called 
on to- admit more slave States having the unequal advan- 
tages arising to them from the mode of apportioning 
representation under the existing Constitution. 

" Sir, I have never made an effort, and never propose 
to make an effort, I have never countenanced an effort, 
and never mean to countenance an effort, to disturb the 
arrangements, as originally made, by which the various 
States came into the Union. But I cannot avoid con- 
sidering it quite a different question, when a proposition 
is made to admit new States, and that they be allowed to 
come in with the same advantages and inequalities which 
were agreed to in regard to the old. It may be said that, 
according to the provisions of the Constitution, new States 
are to be admitted upon the same footing as the old States. 
It may be so ; but it does not follow at all from that pro- 
vision that every territory or portion of country may at 
pleasure establish slavery, and then say, we will become a 
portion of the Union, and will bring with us the principles 
which we have thus adopted, and must be received on the 
same footing as the old States. It .will always be a ques- 
tion whether the other States have not a right (and I 
think they have the clearest right) to require that the 
State coming into the Union should come in upon an 
equality ; and if the existence of slavery be an impedi- 
ment to coming in on an equality, then the State pro- 
posing to come in should be required to remove that in- 
equality by abolishing slavery, or take the alternative of 
being excluded. 

" Now, I suppose that I should be very safe in saying 
that if a proposition were made to introduce, from the 



180 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

North or the Northwest, territories into this Union, under 
circumstances which would give them an equivalent to 
that enjoyed by slave States, — advantage and inequality, 
that is to say, over the South, such as this admission gives 
to the South over the North, — I take it for granted that 
there is not a gentleman in this body from a slaveholding 
State that would listen for one moment to such a propo- 
sition. I therefore put my opposition, as well as on other 
grounds, on the political ground that it deranges the 
balance of the Constitution, and creates inequality and 
unjust advantage against the North, and in favor of the 
slaveholding country of the South. I repeat, that if a 
proposition were now made for annexation from the North, 
and that proposition contained such a preference, such a 
manifest inequality, as that now before us, no one could 
hope that any gentleman from the Southern States would 
hearken to it for a moment. 

" It is not a subject that I mean to discuss at length. 
I am quite aware that there are in this chamber gentlemen 
representing free States, gentlemen from the North and 
East, who have manifested a disposition to add Texas to 
the Union as a slave State, with the common inequality 
belonging to slave States. This is a matter for their own 
discretion, and judgment, and responsibility. They are in 
no way responsible to me for the exercise of the duties 
assigned them here ; but I must say that I cannot but 
think that the time will come when they will very much 
doubt both the propriety and justice of the present pro- 
ceeding. I cannot but think the time will come when all 
will be convinced that there is no reason, political or 
moral, for increasing the number of the States, and in- 
creasing, at the same time, the obvious inequality which 
exists in the representation of the people in Congress by 
extending slavery and slave representation. 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 131 

" On looking at the proposition further, I find that it 
imposes restraints upon the Legislature of the State as 
to the manner in which it shall proceed (in case of a 
desire to proceed at all) in order to the abolition of sla- 
very. I have perused that part of the Constitution of 
Texas, and, if I understand it, the Legislature is re- 
strained from abolishing slavery at any time, except on 
two conditions ; one, the consent of every master, and the 
other, the payment of compensation. Now, I think that 
a Constitution thus formed ties up the hands of the legis- 
lature effectually against any movement, under any state 
of circumstances, with a view to abolish slavery ; because, 
if any thing is to be done, it must be done within the 
State by general law, and such a thing as the consent of 
every master cannot be obtained ; though I do not say 
that there may not be an inherent power in the people of 
Texas to alter the Constitution, if they should be inclined 
to relieve themselves hereafter from the restraint under 
which they labor. But I speak of the Constitution now 
presented to us. 

" Mr. President, I was not in Congress at the last 
session, and, of course, had no opportunity to take part 
in the debates upon this question ; nor have I before been 
called upon to discharge a public trust in regard to it. 
I certainly did, as a private citizen, entertain a strong 
feeling that, if Texas were to be brought into the Union 
at all, she ought to be brought in by diplomatic arrange- 
ment, sanctioned by treaty. But it has been decided 
otherwise by both Houses of Congress ; and, whatever 
my own opinions may be, I know that many who coincided 
with me feel themselves, nevertheless, bound by the de- 
cision of all branches of the Government. My own opi- 
nion and judgment have not been at all shaken by any 
thing I have heard. And now, not having been a member 



132 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

of the Government, and having, of course, taken no 
official part in the measure, and as it has now come to be 
completed, I have believed that I should best discharge 
my own duty, and fulfil the expectations of those who 
placed me here, by giving this expression of their most 
decided, unequivocal, and unanimous dissent and protest; 
and stating, as I have now stated, the reasons which have 
impelled me to withhold my vote. 

u I agree with the unanimous opinion of the Legisla- 
ture of Massachusetts ; I agree with the great mass of 
her people ; I reaffirm what I have said and written during 
the last eight years, at various times, against this annexa- 
tion. I here record my own dissent and opposition ; and 
I here express and place on record, also, the dissent and 
protest of the State of Massachusetts." 

Texas was eventually annexed, and the result was pre- 
cisely what Mr. Webster had predicted : the nation became 
involved in a war with Mexico. While this war was in 
progress, another controversy arose, which threatened to 
involve the country in hostilities with England. During 
the campaign in which Mr. Polk was elected to the Pre- 
sidency, his party and himself had assumed the position 
that the United States were entitled to the whole of the 
Oregon Territory ; and they had designated 54 degrees 
40 minutes as the line which should limit the possessions of 
Britain. In his first message Mr. Polk recommended that 
xiotice should be given to that country that the United 
States would terminate the convention existing between 
the two countries, adopted in 1827, by which Oregon Ter- 
ritory was conjointly occupied. Mr. Webster opposed the 
policy of the President, and he held the position that the 
forty-ninth degree of latitude was the extreme limit which 
the United States could justly claim. This proposition 
was at first treated with great ridicule by the administra- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 133 

tion and its partisans ; but Mr. Webster's sagacity was 
clearly vindicated i by the fact, that Mr. Polk was himself 
compelled at last to accept the very line of settlement 
which Mr. Webster had in the first instance designated 
and defended. In his speech of the 12th of August, 1848, 
on this subject, he insisted on the right of Congress to 
exclude slavery from the Territory ; on the expediency of 
exercising that right ; and against the farther extension 
of slave territory. In regard to the complaint of Southern 
Senators that their slave property would be thus excluded 
from the Territory, he lai(J down these three propositions : 

"First. That when this Constitution was adopted, nobody 
looked for any new acquisition of territory to be formed 
into slaveholding States. 

" Second. That the principles of the Constitution pro- 
hibited, and were intended to prohibit, and should be 
construed to prohibit, all interference of the General 
Government with slavery, as it existed, and as it still 
exists, in the States. And 

"Third. Looking to the operation of these new acquisi- 
tions, which have in this great degree had the effect of 
strengthening that interest in the South by the addition 
of five States, I feel that there is nothing unjust, nothing 
of which any honest man can complain, if he is intelligent; 
I feel that there is nothing with which the civilized world, 
if they take notice of -so humble a person as myself, will 
reproach me when I say, as I said the other day, that I 
have made up my mind, for one, that under no circum- 
stances will I consent to the further extension of the area 
of slavery in the United States, or to the further increase 
of slave representation in the House of Representatives." 

The same principles of political prudence and sagacity 

which had induced Mr. Webster to oppose the annexation 

of Texas constrained him to resist the admission of Cali- 

12 



134 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

fornia and New Mexico into the Confederacy. He thought 
that those vast and often savage realms would cost the 
Government much more than they would actually be worth ; 
and he believed that the existence of such States located 
so far from the centre of the Republic would prove inju- 
rious to its unity, its compactness, and its harmony. In 
spite of his opposition and that of his friends, these Ter- 
ritories were ultimately incorporated with the Union ; but 
the unfavorable prognostications which Mr. Webster had 
entertained on the subject have been happily disappointed. 
The Mexican War was at length concluded with honor 
to the American arms ; and its chief hero, Zachary Taylor, 
was rewarded for his brilliant services by his election to 
the Presidency. His inauguration took place on the 4th 
of March, 1849. Very soon afterward the subject of 
slavery again assumed a portentous aspect in the country ; 
and when California demanded to be admitted into the 
Union as a free State, with her free Constitution already 
adopted and approved, the opposition of the South and of 
Southern representatives to the measure became intense 
and formidable. Large public meetings were held in all 
the non-slaveholding States in support of the admission 
of California ; and thus the question received a sectional 
character and generated a sectional and hostile feeling. 
Soon a meeting of Southern representatives was held at 
Washington to deliberate on the subject; and at this meet- 
ing Mr. Calhoun, still the great leader and Achilles of the 
Southern party, was appointed to prepare an address to 
the constituents of the Southern delegates. This address 
received the signatures of forty-eight Southern representa- 
tives. The excitement became intense throughout the 
country. To allay it, and to settle the difficulty, Mr. Clay 
prepared and introduced his celebrated Compromise mea- 
eure on the 25th of January, 1850. After a protracted 



vl? DANIEL WEBSTEtt. 135 

debate, his resolutions were negatived. It was on the 7th 
of March, after the discussion had continued during several 
months, that Mr. Webster delivered his memorable speech 
on this question. This oration was one of his most mas- 
terly efforts ; and again the Senate-chamber and its 
vicinity were crowded by a vast assemblage, eager to hear 
him. He favored to some extent, on this occasion, the 
interests and prejudices of the South ; and he lost in some 
degree, in consequence of this fact, his popularity at the 
North. But his chief purpose evidently was to administer 
soothing counsel, which would heal the existing exacerbation 
of feeling between rival sections of the Republic, and 
thus to accomplish the best and noblest aim which an 
American statesman can ever possibly achieve. 



136 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER XI. 

Death of General Taylor — Mr. Webster's Eulogy upon Him — Mr. Web- 
ster's Last Speech in the Senate — Mr. Fillmore appoints him Secretary 
of State — Mr. Webster's Celebrated Letter to Chevalier Hiilsemann — 
Disputed Authorship — Expedition of Lopez against Cuba — Its Results 
— Other Questions of Importance disposed of by Mr. Webster — His 
Treatment of Kossuth. 

The sudden death of General Taylor filled the nation 
with regret. The popular sentiment found suitable utter- 
ance in the eulogies which were pronounced in Congress ; 
but among the many eloquent men who then offered the 
tribute of their praise to the memory and the virtues of 
the deceased hero, none equalled in felicity of thought and 
expression the remarks made by Mr. Webster. His man- 
ner and style on such an occasion may be inferred from 
the following extract from the speech addressed to the 
Senate : 

" For a very short time, sir, I had a connection with the 
executive government of this country; and at that time 
very perilous and embarrassing circumstances existed 
between the United States and the Indians on the borders, 
and war was actually carried on between the United States 
and the Florida tribes. I very well remember that those 
who took counsel together on that occasion officially, and 
who were desirous of placing the military command in the 
safest hands, came to the conclusion that there was no 
man in the service more fully uniting the qualities of mili- 
tary ability and great personal prudence than Zachary 
Taylor ; and he was appointed to the command. 



OF DANIEL WEBSTEK. 137 

" Unfortunately, his career at the head of this Govern- 
ment was short. For my part, in all that I have seen of 
him, I have found much to respect and nothing to con- 
demn. The circumstances under which he conducted the 
Government, for the short time he was at the head of it, 
have been such as not to give him a very* favorable oppor- 
tunity of developing his principles and his policy, and 
carrying them out ; but I believe he has left on the minds 
of the country a strong impression, first, of his absolute 
honesty and integrity of character ; next, of his sound, 
practical good sense ; and, lastly, of the mildness, kind- 
ness, and friendliness of his temper toward all his country- 
men. 

; ' But he is gone. He is ours no more, except in the 
force of his example. Sir, I heard with infinite delight 
the sentiments expressed by my honorable friend from 
Louisiana, who has just resumed his seat, when he earnestly 
prayed that this event might be used to soften the animosi- 
ties, to allay party criminations and recriminations, and to 
restore fellowship and good feeling among the various sec- 
tions of the Union. Mr. Secretary, great as is our loss 
to-day, if these inestimable and inappreciable blessings 
shall have been secured to us even by the death of Zachary 
Taylor, they have not been purchased at too high a price ; 
and if his spirit, from the regions to which he has ascended, 
could see these results from his unexpected and untimely 
end, if he could see that he had entwined a soldier's laurel 
around a martyr's crown, he would say exultingly, ' Happy 
am I, that, by my death I have done more for that country 
which I loved an \ served, than I did or could do by all the 
devotion and all tne efforts that I could make in her behalf 
during the short span of my earthly existence !' 

The obsequies of General Taylor interrupted the dis- 
cussion of the famous Compromise Measures. After their 

12* 



188 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

conclusion the debate was resumed. On the 17th of July, 
1850, Mr. Webster, in speaking on this momentous theme, 
addressed the Senate for the last time. He had played 
the most important part, and had made the most remark- 
able figure, in the Federal Congress, of any American 
statesman ; and now at last the time had arrived when 
that unparalleled career had reached its termination. It 
is fit that we should chronicle the last words which he ever 
uttered on the scene of his greatest glory. Said he : 

" And now, Mr. President, to return at last to the prin- 
cipal and important question before us, What are we to do? 
How are we to bring this emergent and pressing question 
to -an issue and an end ? Here have we been seven and a 
half months disputing about points which, in my judg- 
ment, are of rfo practical importance to one or the other 
part of the country. Are we to dwell forever upon a 
single topic, a single idea ? Are we to forget all the pur- 
poses for which governments are instituted, and continue 
everlastingly to dispute about that which is of no essential 
consequence ? I think, sir, the country calls upon us 
loudly and imperatively to settle this question. I think 
that the whole world is looking to see whether this great 
popular government can get through such a crisis. We 
are the observed of all observers. It is not to be disputed 
or doubted that the eyes of all Christendom are upon us. 
We have stood through many trials. Can we not stand 
through this, which takes so much the character of a sec- 
tional controvers} 7- ? Can we stand that ? There is no 
inquiring man in all Europe who does not ask himself that 
question every day, when he reads the intelligence of the 
morning. Can this country, with one set of interests at 
the South, and another set of interests at the North, and 
these interests supposed, but falsely supposed, to be at 
variance, — can this people see what is so evident to the 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 139 

whole world beside, that this Union is their main hope and 
greatest benefit, and that their interests in every part are 
entirely compatible ? Can they see, and will they feel, 
that their prosperity, their respectability among the na- 
tions of the earth, and their happiness at home, depend 
upon the maintenance of their Union and their Constitu- 
tion ? That is the question. I agree that local divisions 
are apt to warp the understandings of men and to excite 
a belligerent feeling between section and section. It is 
natural, in times of irritation, for one part of the country 
•to say, 'If you do that, I will do this,' and so get up a feel- 
ing of hostility and defiance. Then comes belligerent 
legislation, and then an appeal to arms. The question is, 
whether we have the true patriotism, the Americanism, 
necessary to carry us through such a trial. The whole 
world is looking toward us with extreme anxiety. For 
myself, I propose, sir, to abide by the principles and the 
purposes which I have avowed. I shall stand by the 
Union, and by all who stand by it. I shall do justice te 
the whole country, according to the best of my ability, m 
all I say, and act for the good of the whole country in all 
I do. I mean to stand upon the Constitution. I need no 
other platform. I shall know but one country. The ends 
I aim at shall be my country's, my God's, and truth's. I 
was born an American ; I will live an American ; I shall 
die an American ; and I intend to perform the duties in- 
cumbent upon me in that character to the end of my 
career. I mean to do this, with absolute disregard of per- 
sonal consequences. What are personal consequences ? 
What is the individual man, with all the good or evil that 
may betide him, in comparison with the good or evil which 
may befall a great country in a crisis like this, and in the 
midst of great transactions which concern that country's 
fate ? Let the consequences be what they will, [ am care- 



140 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

less. No man can suffer too much, and no man can fait 
too soon, if he suffer or if he fall in defence of the liber- 
ties and Constitution of his country." 

Scarcely had Mr. Fillmore succeeded to the Presidency 
in consequence of the death of General Taylor, than he 
found himself in a difficult position. He was compelled 
to appoint a new Cabinet, and the administration was ex- 
pected to enforce the Compromise measures, which had 
been at length adopted, but which were repugnant to the 
feelings of a large portion of the Confederacy. The first 
act of the President was to offer the first place in the' 
Cabinet to Mr. Webster, whose views harmonized with his 
own on almost every point of policy. The offer was ac- 
cepted, and Mr. Webster became for the second time 
Secretary of State. At this period he began gradually 
to recover the popularity with the North which he had 
lost in consequence of the delivery of his speech of the 
7th of March, 1850. He had endured a vast amount of 
opprobrium on account of the opinions which he had 
uttered in that memorable oration; but the storm had 
Gradually spent itself, and he was regaining the confidence 
and esteem which for a time he had forfeited. His able 
conduct as chief officer of the Cabinet soon raised him to 
the same elevation in the popular adulation which he had 
previously occupied. 

- One of the measures which contributed to this result 
was his official letter to the communication of Chevalier 
Hulsemann, the Charge a" Affaires of the Emperor of 
Austria to this Government. The chevalier had com- 
plained in his official note, of the mission of Mr. Dudley 
Mann to the then revolting kingdom of Hungary, for 
the purpose of expressing the sympathy of the United 
States with the heroes who were then making prodigious 
efforts to overthrow the colossal tyranny of Austria, and 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 141 

establish the liberties of their native land. The emperor, 
by his agent, demanded from the United States Govern- 
ment an apology for the affront, and a guarantee that it 
should not be repeated in future. 

For some time the communication of the obsequious 
tool of the tyrant was treated with oblivious contempt. 
At length a reply was sent to it, which exhibited as much 
ability and intellectual power as it expressed of derision 
and scorn for the pretensions and principles of the poten- 
tate by whose orders the original note had been sent. 
The leading doctrine set forth in this memorable paper 
was, that the Austrian monarch had no right whatever to 
object to the interest taken by the United States Govern- 
ment in the struggles of a people who were toiling for the 
attainment of their liberties, because such a course we had 
ourselves pursued; and such a course was consonant with 
the fundamental principles of the American Confederacy. 
The composition of this masterly document has been 
generally ascribed by the popular voice to the pen of 
Edward Everett; but the fact probably was, that Mr. 
Webster suggested the principles which are set forth, the 
general ideas which are contained in it, requesting Mr. 
Everett to put these into appropriate language, and give 
them their present form and connection. 

On the 14th of October, 1851, Don Calderon de la 
Barca, the Spanish minister at Washington, addressed 
a note to Mr. Webster in reference to the outrages 
which had been committed at New Orleans upon Spanish 
residents there by the partisans of Lopez and his asso- 
ciates in his disastrous expedition against Cuba. The 
demand of the minister for reparation was an equitable 
one; because those Spaniards were not in the slightest 
degree responsible for the conduct of their distant Govern- 
ment. Mr, Webster accordingly addressed a reply to De 



142 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

la Barca on' the 13th of November, condemning the ex- 
pedition of Lopez and the excesses of his friends, and 
promising on the part of the United States Government 
all the satisfaction which was just under the circumstances. 
This appropriate act did not prevent Mr. Webster from 
subsequently sending a communication to Mr. Barringer, 
the United States minister at Madrid, asking his inter- 
position in procuring the release of the American prisoners 
who were yet in durance at Havana, or were under sen- 
tence of death amid the glooms of the Spanish mines. The 
result of this timely and generous interference was the 
ultimate pardon and release of a hundred and sixty-two 
of the daring and reckless adventurers, who had been 
consigned to the penalty of death, — a penalty which they 
had richly deserved, as we must admit when we remember 
the fact that they had entered on a most detestable ex- 
pedition, prepared to commit every possible excess in order 
to gratify all the worst passions' which disgrace and deform 
human nature, and who only wanted the ability and the 
means to carry out their purposes. 

Other subjects of great moment occupied the attention 
of the Secretary of State during the last year of his public 
service. Among these were the revival of the terms of the 
Clayton-Bulwer Treaty in reference to the affairs of Central 
America, the question of the fisheries, the Tehuan tepee 
Treaty, and the ownership of the Lobos Islands. At 
this period the interest of Mr. Webster was strongly elici- 
ted in favor of the merits and fate of Louis Kossuth, the 
ex-Governor of Hungary, who visited the United States 
in December, 1851. He had addressed a letter of instruc- 
tion to Mr. George P. Marsh, the United States minister at 
Constantinople, directing him to use all his influence to 
prevent the surrender of the Hungarian patriot and hero 
to the bloody clutches of the Austrian despot, and to per- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 143 

mit his removal to the United States. That letter, and 
the potent influences which it set in operation, were de- 
cisive of the fate of Governor Kossuth ; and all the arts, 
promises, and threats of the Austrian court were unavail- 
ing. Kossuth, who was really one of the most able and 
eminent statesmen of modern times, sailed for this country 
and visited various portions of the Confederacy, and was 
everywhere received with the consideration which he de- 
served. On the 7th of January, 1852, he was honored 
with a public dinner at Washington, tendered by a large 
number of the members of both Houses of Congress. Mr. 
Webster was present, and delivered a speech, in which he 
expressed his admiration for Hungarian patriotism and 
valor, as exhibited in the then recent struggle, and his sym- 
pathy with the fate of the Hungarian exile. He referred 
in eloquent terms to the interest which he had felt and 
uttered, many years previous, in 1824, with the similai 
struggles of a similar nation, — the heroic patriots of 
Greece ; and he asserted that he was ready to maintain 
the same friendly relations, always and everywhere, with 
any people who might endeavor by similarly legitimate 
means to throw off the detested chains of tyranny, and 
assert their claim to a position among the free and sove- 
reign nations of the earth. This was indeed a fitting and 
appropriate utterance with which the ablest champion of 
human liberty in modern times might conclude his long 
career ; the last words which were destined ever to issue 
in public from his eloquent lips. 



144 THE LIFE AND TIMES 



CHAPTER XII. 

Approach of Mr. Webster's Last Illness — His Religious Opinions—A 
Summary of it — Mr. Webster's Will — New and Alarming Symptoms 
— Mr. Webster's Scrutiny of his Own Dissolution — His Death — His 
Intellectual Character — Parallel between Him and Alexander Hamilton 
— Mr. Webster's Skill in Agriculture — His Library — His Favorite 
Amusements — His Fondness for the Sea-Shore — The Admirable Pro- 
portion of his Mental Faculties — His Peculiarities as an Orator — His 
Great Logical Power — His Boldness and Fortitude — The Permanence 
and Splendor of his Fame. 

We have now reached the closing scene in the life of 
this remarkable man, — a scene as singular and original in 
its peculiarities as were the events of the preceding epochs 
and stages of his existence. If it be appointed unto all 
men once to die, there the similarity of human destiny 
ends ; for all men die differently : the same description of 
the last solemn scene will not apply to any two persons of 
the race ; and in this respect Mr. Webster's last hours, 
and the conclusion of his memorable career, were unique in 
their incidents, and in some respects without a parallel. 

It was in April, 1852, that the chronic diarrhoea to 
which Mr. Webster had been subject for some years during 
the summer months assumed such alarming appearances, 
that he was at last compelled to leave his office at Wash- 
ington and return to Marshfield, in the hope of recovery 
and relief by breathing the air and reviewing the scenes 
of that favorite spot. His hope was partially realized. 
Although he met with a serious accident by being thrown 
from his carriage during his visit, he acquired ultimately 
a renewal of his strength. On the 24th of May he ad- 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 145 

dressed an immense audience of the citizens of Boston in 
Faneuil Hall. Thence he returned to Washington, where 
he remained until the public reception which was given 
him in July by his political friends in the capital of Mas- 
sachusetts. Once more he returned to the duties of his 
office at Washington, where he remained until the beginning 
of September. During the journey which he afterward 
made through Baltimore toward Marshfield, he took a severe 
cold, which aggravated all his old symptoms. He visited 
Boston several times, and at length, on the 21st of Sep- 
tember, he returned to Marshfield for the last time, fully 
conscious that his condition was very critical. 

To every intelligent and thinking man the close of life 
is always an important and solemn occasion ; and thus Mr. 
Webster viewed it. He directed his attention, as he lay 
upon his couch, to the subject of religion, and requested 
that certain passages of Scripture should be read to him. 
On Sunday evening, October 10th, he dictated to his at- 
tendants a singular testimony and exposition of his religious 
belief. It was as follows : 

" LORD, I BELIEVE : HELP THOU MY UNBELIEF. 
" Philosophical argument, especially that drawn from 
the vastness of the universe in comparison with the ap- 
parent insignificance of this globe, has sometimes shaken 
my reason for the faith which is in me ; but my heart has 
always assured and reassured me that the gospel of Jesus 
Christ must be a divine reality. The Sermon on the 
Mount cannot be a merely human production. This belief 
enters into the very depths of my conscience. The whole 
history of man proves it. 

"D. Webster." 

It was the earnest wish of this great man to leave behind 
him an express declaration of his belief in the truth of the 

13 



146 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

Christian religion ; and he desired the preceding compre- 
hensive and explicit statement to be engraved as an epi- 
taph upon his tomb. After having thus paid due regard 
to the moral obligations which devolved upon him, by this 
and by other religious exercises, he proceeded to dispose 
of his worldly affairs, and to arrange them, with the same 
prudence, intelligence, and justice which had ever cha- 
racterized his conduct in his dealings with his fellow-men 
during his lifetime. As the will of so remarkable a person 
as Mr. Webster would bear the stamp of his peculiar at- 
tributes of mind and heart, and as its details will be inte- 
resting to all intelligent readers, we here introduce it. It 
was as follows : 

"in the name of almighty god! 

" I, Daniel Webster, of Marshfield, in the county of 
Plymouth, and commonwealth of Massachusetts, Esquire, 
being now confined to my house with a serious illness, 
which, considering my time of life, is undoubtedly critical, 
but being nevertheless in the full possession of my mental 
faculties, do make and publish this, my last will and testa- 
ment : 

" I commit my soul into the hands of my heavenly 
Father, trusting in his infinite goodness and mercy. 

" I direct that my mortal remains be buried in the 
family-vault at Marshfield, where monuments are already 
erected to my deceased children and their mother. Two 
places are marked for other monuments, of exactly the 
same size and form. One of these, in proper time, is for 
me ; and perhaps I may leave an epitaph. The other is 
for Mrs. Webster. Her ancestors, and all her kindred, lie 
in. a far-distant city. My hope is, that after many years 
she may come to my side, and join me and others whom 
God hath given me. 






OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 147 

" I wish to be buried without the least show or ostenta- 
tion, but in a manner respectful to my neighbors, whose 
kindness has contributed so much to the happiness of me 
and mine, and for whose prosperity I offer sincere prayers 
to God. 

" Concerning my worldly estate, my will must be ano- 
malous and out of the common form, on account of the 
state of my affairs. I have two large real estates. By 
marriage-settlement, Mrs. Webster is entitled to a life- 
estate in each, and after her death they belong to my 
heirs. On the Franklin estate, so far as I know, there is 
no encumbrance except Mrs. Webster's life-estate. On 
Marshfield, Mr. Samuel Frothingham has an unpaid balance 
of a mortgage, now amounting to twenty-five hundred 
dollars. My great and leading wish is to preserve Marsh- 
field, if I can, in the blood and name of my own family. 
To this end, it must go in the first place to my son, 
Fletcher Webster, who is hereafter to be the immediate 
prop of my house and the general representative of my 
name and character. I have the fullest confidence in his 
affection and good sense, and that he will heartily concur 
in any thing that appears to be for the best. 

" I do not see, under present circumstances of him and 
his family, how I can now make a definite provision for the 
future beyond his life : I propose, therefore, to put the 
property into the hands of trustees, to be disposed of by 
them as exigencies may require. 

" My affectionate wife, who has been to me a source of 
so much happiness, must be tenderly provided for. Care 
must betaken that she has- some reasonable income. 1 
make this will upon the faith of what has been said to me 
by friends, of means which will be found- to carry out my 
reasonable ■ wishes. It is best that -Mrs. Webster's life- 
interest in' the two estates- be purchased out. It must -be 



148 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

seen what can be done with friends at Boston, and espe- 
cially with the contributors to my life-annuity. My son-in- 
law, Mr. Appleton, has generously requested me to pay 
little regard to his interests, or to those of his children ; 
but I must do something, and enough to manifest my warm 
love and attachment to him and them. The property best 
to be spared for the purpose of buying out Mrs. Webster's 
life-interest under the marriage-settlement, is Franklin, 
which is very valuable property, and which may be sold 
under prudent management, or mortgaged for a conside- 
rable sum. 

" I have also a quantity of valuable land in Illinois, at 
Peru, which ought to be immediately seen after. Mr. 
Edward Curtis and Mr. Blatchford and Mr. Franklin 
Haven know all about my large debts ; and they have un- 
dertaken to see at once whether those can be provided for, 
so that these purposes may probably be carried into effect. 

"With these explanations, I now make the following 
provisions, namely : 

" Item. I appoint my wife, Caroline Le Roy Webster, 
my son, Fletcher Webster, and R. M. Blatchford, Esquire, 
of New York, to be the executors of this will. I wish mv 
said executors, and also the trustees hereinafter named, in 
all things relating to finance and pecuniary matters, to 
consult with my valued friend, Franklin Haven ; and in 
all things respecting Marshfield, with Charles Henry 
Thomas, always an intimate friend, and one whom I love 
for his own sake and that of his family ; and in all things 
respecting Franklin, with that true man, John Taylor ; 
and I wish them to consult in all matters of law with my 
brethren and highly-esteemed friends, Charles P. Curtis 
and George T. Curtis. 

"Item. I give and devise to James W. Paige and 
Franklin Haven, of Boston, and Edward Curtis, of New 



OF DANIEL WESSTER. 149 

STork, all my real estate in the towns of Marshfield, in the 
State of Massachusetts, and Franklin, in the State of New 
Hampshire, being the two estates above mentioned, to have 
and to hold the same to them and their heirs and assigns 
forever, upon the following trusts, namely : 

"First. To mortgage, sell, or lease so much thereof as 
may be necessary to pay to my wife, Caroline Le Roy 
Webster, the estimated value of her life-interest, heretofore 
secured to her thereon by marriage-settlement, as is above 
recited, if she shall elect to receive that valuation in place 
of the security with which those estates now stand charged. 

" Secondly. To pay to my said wife, from the rents and 
profits and income of the said two estates, the further sum 
of five hundred dollars per annum during her natural life. 

"Thirdly. To hold, manage, and carry on the said two 
estates, or so much thereof as may not be sold for the pur- 
poses aforesaid, for the use of my son, Fletcher Webster, 
during his natural life, and after his decease to convey 
the same in fee to such of his male descendants as a 
majority of the said trustees may elect, they acting therein 
with my son's concurrence, if circumstances admit of his 
expressing his wishes, otherwise acting upon their own dis- 
cretion ; it being my desire that his son Ashburton Web- 
ster take one, and his son Daniel Webster, Jr., the other 
of the said estates. 

" Item. I direct that my wife, Caroline Le Roy Web- 
ster, have, and I hereby give to her, the right during her 
life to reside in my mansion-house, at Marshfield, when 
she wishes to do so, with my son, in case he may reside 
there, or in his absence ; and this I do, not doubting my 
son's affection for her or for me, but because it is due to 
her that she should receive this right from her husband. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to the said James W. 
Paige, Franklin Haven, and Edward Curtis, all the books, 

13* 



150 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

plate, pictures, statuary, and furniture, and other personal 
property now in my mansion-house at Marshfield, exeept 
such articles as are hereinafter otherwise disposed of, in 
trust to preserve the same in the mansion-house for the use 
of my son, Fletcher Webster, during his life, and after his 
decease to make over and deliver the same to the person 
who will then become l the owner of the estate of Marsh- 
field,' it being my desire and intention that they remain 
attached to the house while it is occupied by any of my 
name and blood. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to my said wife all my 
furniture which she brought with her on her marriage, and 
the silver plate purchased of Mr. Rush, for her own use. 

" Item. I give, devise, and bequeath to my said exe- 
cutors all my other real and personal estate, except such 
as is hereafter described and otherwise disposed of, to be 
applied to the execution of the general purposes of this 
will, and to be sold and disposed of, or held and used at 
Marshfield, as they and the said trustees may find to be 
expedient. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to my son, Fletcher Web- 
ster, all my law-books, wherever situated, for his own use. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to my son-in-law, Samuel 
A. Appleton, my California watch and chain, for his own 

use. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to my grand-daughter, 
Caroline Le Roy Appleton, the portrait of myself, by 
Healy, which now hangs in the southeast parlor, at Marsh- 
field, for her own use. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to my grandson, Samuel 
A. Appleton, my gold snuff-box, with the head of General 
Washington, all my fishing-tackle, and my Selden and 
Wilmot guns, for his own use. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to my grandson, Daniel 



OE DANIEL WEBSTER. 151 

Webster Appleton, my Washington medals, for his own 
use. 

" Item. I give and bequeath to my grand-daughter, 
Julia Webster Appleton, the clock presented to her grand 
mother by the late Hon. George Blake. 

"Item. I appoint Edward Everett, George Ticknor, 
Cornelius Conway Felton, and George Ticknor Curtis, to 
be my literary executors ; and I direct my son, Fletcher 
Webster, to seal up all my letters, manuscripts, and papers, 
and at a proper time to select those relating to my personal 
history and my professional and public life, which in his 
judgment should be placed at their disposal, and to trans- 
fer the same to them, to be used by them in such manner 
as they may think fit. They may receive valuable aid 
from my friend, George J. Abbott, Esq., now of the State 
Department. 

" My servant, William Johnson, is a free man. I bought 
his freedom not long ago for six hundred dollars. No de- 
mand is to be made upon him for any portion of this sum ; 
but, so long as is agreeable, I hope he will remain with the 
family. 

"Item. Morricha McCarty, Sarah Smith, and Ann 
Bean, colored persons, now also and for a long time in my 
service, are all free. They are very well deserving, and 
whoever comes after me must be kind to them. 

" Item. I request that my said executors and trustees 
be not required to give bonds for the performance of their 
respective duties under this will. 

" In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand 
and seal, at Marshfield, and have published and declared 
this to be my last will and testament, on the 21st day of 
October, a.d. 1852." 

The day after this will was written, but not signed or 
executed, a very alarming symptom of Mr. Webster's dis- 



152 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

ease occurred. He suddenly vomited a large quantity of 
blood. " That," said lie to his attending physician, " is 
the enemy : if you can conquer that" — here his utter- 
ance was interrupted by a repetition of the attack. As 
soon as the spasm had passed over, he summoned his 
family around him, and executed his will, after having 
ascertained that all its provisions were agreeable to those 
who were interested in it. Having finished this important 
matter, he remarked, "I thank God for strength to per- 
form a sensible act," and then engaged in prayer. After 
some minutes were spent in this exercise, he concluded by 
exclaiming, " And now unto God, the Father, the Son, 
and the Holy Ghost, be praise for evermore. Peace on 
earth, and good will toward men. That is the happiness, — 
the essence, — good will toward men." Observing the 
anxious face of Dr. Jeffries, his attending physician, he 
afterward said, " Doctor, you think I shall not be here in 
the morning; but I shall: I shall greet the morning light." 
His prophecy was true. He did see the morning light 
once more ; and during the progress of the day he said to 
the doctor, " Cheer up, doctor, cheer up : I shall not die 
to-day. You will get me along to-day." On the morning 
of Saturday, the 23d, he at last declared expressly to the 
physician, " I shall die to-night ;" and herein also the pre- 
diction proved to be a true one. 

The most curious incident in reference to the death of 
Daniel Webster is the fact that he seemed to have resolved 
to watch the process of his own dissolution ; to employ his 
intellectual faculties in scrutinizing the successive steps 
or progress of that mysterious and wondrous change which 
takes place when the soul, gradually severing the bonds 
which bind her to her tenement of clay, attains her disem- 
bodied state, terminates her direct contact and relation to 
things temporal and material, and passes away to experience 



OP DANIEL WEBSTEK. 153 

and explore the realities of another world. Of no othei 
mortal, either distinguished or obscure, is a similar eccen- 
tricity recorded ; but it is precisely such a development of 
mental power and tendency which might have been ex- 
pected from Daniel Webster. Accordingly, during the 
downward progress of his disease, he continued to watch 
every symptom ; and his intellectual faculties, instead of 
becoming weaker, dimmer, fainter, as the great crisis ap- 
proached, seemed to retain their customary power. How 
far this colossal intellect was able to carry its conscious 
scrutiny of its own experiences into the solemn and marvel- 
lous mysteries-.of death, it is impossible to say ; nor can 
any process of reasoning prove that this scrutiny might 
not have been persisted in, even till the termination of the 
struggle of dissolving nature, and till the full freedom 
of the disembodied spirit had been attained ; but it is 
evident that Mr. Webster's singular display of conscious 
thought and watchful observation continued much longer 
and farther within the dark valley and shadow of death 
than that recorded of any other human being ; and that, 
until the body lost all power of movement and sensation, 
his mind, the inward yet departing sentinel, continued to 
use it as a means of indicating outwardly to those around 
him, the existence of his consciousness and of his observa- 
tion of his progressing state. His last words, as if in- 
tended to assure those who were near him that though his 
body was dying his mind did not share in its decay, were, 
" I still live !" His spirit ascended to the God who gave 
it, with all its vast capacities, at twenty-three minutes be- 
fore three o'clock on the morning of the 24th of October, 
1852. He was in the seventy-first year of his age. 

As a whole, the character of Daniel Webster is one of 
the most massive and remarkable which the history of 
our country has produced ; while his career presents a 



154 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

fulness and completeness which have fallen to the lot of 
very few great men, and which are highly pleasing to the 
mind of the thoughtful observer. Mr. Webster was the 
Alexander Hamilton of the second era of the history of 
this Confederacy ; and he resembled that illustrious orator 
and statesman in many important points of his intellectual 
and personal character. Hamilton's was the most original 
and powerful intellect of his era; and the same pre-emi- 
nence belongs to Mr. Webster. Hamilton's mind possessed 
great variety and diversity of faculties; and so also did 
Mr. Webster's. As no other American statesman could 
have written those portions of the Federalist which 
Hamilton contributed, so no statesman of Webster's era 
could have delivered his speech in reply to Hayne, or on 
the Compromise measures. Both of these men were 
eminent as lawyers, as political orators, as the originators 
of new expedients, and as general scholars. Hamilton's 
mind was the more fertile, the more elastic, the more 
brilliant, of the two ; Webster's was the more colossal, 
the more ponderous, slower in movement, but perhaps 
ultimately more powerful in effect. Unhappily for Hamil- 
ton, his brilliant career was cut short when in the acme 
of its splendor, by the hand of death ; while Mr. Web- 
ster's was fortunately continued during a long series of 
years, until the usual limit of man's existence. . And as 
no human character is perfect, or free from some shadow 
of defect, it deserves to be noted that even the single 
vice of which both these great men were charged was the 
same ; for both were unduly influenced by the potent yet 
perverted fascinations of the gentler and fairer sex. 

Among the prominent personal traits of Mr. Webster 
may be mentioned his fondness for the details and experi- 
ments of agriculture. On that subject his conversation 
was always remarkably interesting and instructive. His 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 155 

farm at Marshfield was tilled in an admirable manner; 
and he introduced every new improvement, and imported 
the best breeds of cattle, from foreign countries, with the 
interest of the most enthusiastic connoisseur. He had 
spent his youth amid the bracing and healthful occupations 
of husbandry ; and he ever afterward retained a fond at- 
tachment for the associations and experiences of the 
farm-house, the country, and the rural solitude. 

He was also a great lover of books ; and a large apart- 
ment in his house at Marshfield was appropriated to the 
use of his library. This was a very extensive and valuable 
one, comprising some thousands of volumes in every de- 
partment of science and learning ; and its cost to him was 
nearly thirty thousand dollars. His amusements were 
such as became so remarkable a man ; for he delighted in 
the quiet excitement of fishing with all the ardor of Izaac 
Walton himself. The restless billows of old ocean lave 
the outskirts of his farm at Marshfield ; and on its tempest- 
beaten strand the great statesman delighted often to wan- 
der alone, to gaze upon its far-extending and ever-shifting 
expanse of waters, and to listen to the mournful music of its 
multitudinous murmurs. What an interesting sight must 
that have been to the curious stranger who may have come 
from a distance to see the illustrious statesman, to behold 
his portly form for the first time, alone on the sandy 
beach, gazing thoughtfully out upon the wide waste of 
waters, and lost in meditations, reflections, and reminis- 
cences such as those in which he only could have indulged! 
Not even Marius sitting in solitude amid the ruins of 
Carthage, nor Napoleon standing on the rocky and beetling 
cliffs of St. Helena, presents to our mind a more impressive 
or interesting picture. 

One great. merit of Mr. Webster's' mental character was 
the admirable proportion of all his faculties. Other jurists 



156 THE LIFE AND TIMES 

in the land have possessed more legal learning ; other 
orators have uttered more moving, rhapsodical, popular 
eloquence ; other politicians have shown more tact, .and 
more insight into the perfidious workings of human nature, 
as developed by the vicissitudes of party ; other savans 
have had more scientific culture ; but as a complete and 
majestic whole, Mr. Webster had no equal in the history of 
his times for an assemblage of great and rare qualities com- 
bined together in one intellect. No other man possessed 
so many different great faculties developed to the same 
wondrous and extreme degree. 

As an orator, Mr. Webster's manner did not exhibit the 
same winning and mellifluous fluency which characterized 
the speeches of Henry Clay. On ordinary occasions his 
delivery was rather dull and heavy ; but when fully 
aroused by the exigencies of some important crisis, then 
he was matchless. He was a giant, who launched his 
forensic thunderbolts with a degree of power which no 
other orator of modern times possessed. His speeches 
always read to advantage when printed, which effect re- 
sulted from the inherent substance and superior value 
which they contained ; whereas the orations of Mr. Clay 
lost their most potent charm and their greatest merit the 
moment they were committed to paper. The reason of 
this peculiarity was, because with Mr. Clay the chief ex- 
cellence was the delivery ; with Mr. Webster the main 
value was the substance. Yet the speeches of Mr. Web- 
ster were not devoid of the beauties of the imagination ; 
for he was a lover of poetry, was familiar with the best 
productions of the modern muse, and frequently quoted 
select and appropriate passages from his favorite authors 
with great effect and propriety. His memory, indeed, 
was accurate and tenacious to a very rare degree ; and it 



OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 157 

Was richly stored with all the treasures of varied know- 
ledge. 

As a reasoner, Mr. Webster was a match even for the 
great master of logic in the Senate, Mr. John C. Calhoun. 
In all his arguments and combats with that able man, 
he ever proved his superiority to him, even on his favorite 
field of intellectual effort. No sophistry could blind him ; 
no metaphysical labyrinth of specious ratiocination could 
mislead or delude him as to the true fact or principles in- 
volved in the case. He probed to the bottom of every 
subject, and brought up the gem of truth to the light of 
day, however deeply it may have laid embedded in the 
depths of the abyss of error and of falsehood. When 
occasion called for the display of sarcasm and invective, 
no orator could ever exceed him in the use of those 
formidable and terrible weapons. Let the discomfiture 
of Mr. Hayne, and the obliteration of Mr. Ingersoll, bear 
witness to his destructive power in this respect. In 
general, he was mild and courteous in his intercourse with 
his fellow-men, and was ever ready to extend the generous 
hand of charity to those who might desire or request his 
interposition. At the same time, he was dauntless and 
full of fortitude. No opposition or hostile combination 
could terrify or move him. At one time a ponderous 
load of public opprobrium and censure lay upon his 
shoulders, — a fate which also fell to the lot of Henry 
Clay at a certain period of his career ; but he bore that 
burden, as did the great Kentucky statesman, as superior 
and powerful natures always endure calamities and vicis- 
situdes of that description, with a dignified, undaunted, 
and defiant self-reliance, not unmingled with contempt for 
his persecutors, which sustained him successfully even 
during his darkest hour. As the expounder and defender 
j)f the Federal Constitution, he was unrivalled ; and his 

14 



158 THE LIFE AND TIMES OE DANIEL WEBSTER. 

judgments and opinions on that important subject will 
always remain indisputable and unanswerable dicta, for the 
future guidance and instruction of his countrymen. 

The contemplation of the fame of such a man is a 
pleasing theme for those who rejoice in the excellence and 
elevation of human nature. It shows us how great, how 
noble, how powerful, humanity can become, and reminds 
us that, while the history of the race is filled with count- 
less proofs of its imbecility, misery, and degradation, such 
defects are not inherent in the nature and destiny of 
humanity ; but that it may, and it sometimes does, rise in 
majesty and grandeur to an equality even with angels. 
Mr. Webster's fame is immortal; for it is indissolubly 
identified with the growing greatness of that vast Con- 
federacy whose federal unity in critical times he more than 
once preserved from ruin. He needs no better monument 
than the living and perpetual memory of his own great 
thoughts and deeds. Men may erect statues to his honor ; 
the sculptor may transfer to the speaking marble the 
faultless semblance of his person ; the skilful painter may 
depict on the breathing canvas that form and those fea- 
tures which overawed and impressed his own generation 
with a clear consciousness of his vast superiority: all 
these expedients are useless ; for, though dead, he yet 
speaketh; and he will continue to speak, until the last 
hour of recorded time, as one of the most profound, most 
patriotic, and most eloquent of Americans. 



SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 



I. 

MR. WEBSTER'S REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 

In the United States Senate, January 26, 1830. 



Jf ollowing Mr. Hayne in the debate, Mr. Webster ad- 
diessed the. Senate as follows : 

Mr. President : When the mariner has been tossed, for 
many days, in thick weather, and on an unknown sea, he 
naturally avails himself of the first pause in the storm, 
the earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and 
ascertain how far the elements have driven him from his 
true course. Let us imitate this prudence, and, before we 
float farther, refer to the point from which we departed, 
that we may at least be able to conjecture where we now 
are. I ask for the reading of the resolution. 
[The Secretary read the resolution, as follows : 
"Resolved, That the committee on public lands be in- 
structed to inquire and report the quantity of the public 
lands remaining unsold within each State and Territory, 
and whether it be expedient to limit, for a certain period, 
the sales of the public lands to such lands only as have 
heretofore been offered for sale and are now subject to 
entry at the minimum price. And, also, whether the office 
of surveyor-general, and some of the land-offices, may not 

150 



160 SPEECHES OE DAXIEL WEBSTER. 

be abolished without detriment to the public interest ; 01 
whether it be expedient to adopt measures to hasten the 
sales and extend more rapidly the surveys of the public 
lands."] 

We have thus heard, sir, what the resolution is, which 
is actually before us for consideration ; and it will readily 
occur to every one that it is almost the only subject about 
which something has not been said in the speech, running 
through two days, by which the Senate has been now enter- 
tained by the gentleman from South Carolina. Every 
topic in the wide range of our public affairs, whether past 
or present, — every thing, general or local, whether belong- 
ing to national politics or party politics, — seems to have 
attracted more or less of the honorable member's attention, 
save only the resolution before us. He has spoken of 
every thing but the public lands. They have escaped his 
notice. To that subject, in all his excursions, he has not 
paid even the cold respect of a passing glance. 

When this debate, sir, was to be resumed, on Thursday 
morning, it so happened that it would have been convenient 
for me to be elsewhere. The honorable member, however, 
did not incline to put off the discussion to another day. 
He had a shot, he said, to return, and he wished to dis- 
charge it. That shot, sir, which it was kind thus to inform 
us was. coming, that we might stand out of the way, or 
prepare ourselves to fall before it, and die with decency, 
has now been received. Under all advantages, and with 
expectation awakened by the tone which preceded it, it has 
been discharged, and has spent its force. It may become 
me to say no more of its effect than that, if nobody is 
found, after all, either killed or wounded by it, it is not the 
first time in the history of human affairs that the vigor and 
success of the war have not quite come up to the lofty and 
sounding phrase of the manifesto. 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 161 

The gentleman, sir, in declining to postpone the debate, 
told the Senate, with the emphasis of his hand upon his 
heart, that there was something rankling here, which he 
wished to relieve. [Mr. Hayne rose and disclaimed having 
used the word rankling.'] It would not, Mr. President, be 
safe for the honorable member to appeal to those around 
him, upon the question whether he did, in fact, make use 
of that word. But he may have been unconscious of it. 
At any rate, it is enough that he disclaims it. But still, 
with or without the use of that particular word, he had yet 
something here, he said, of which he wished to rid himself 
by an immediate reply. In this respect, sir, I have a great 
advantage over the honorable gentleman. There is nothing 
here, sir, which gives me the slightest uneasiness ; neither 
fear, nor anger, nor that which is sometimes more trouble- 
some than either, — the consciousness of having been in the 
wrong. There is nothing either originating here, or now 
received here by the gentleman's shot. Nothing original, 
for I had not the slightest feeling of disrespect or unkind- 
ness toward the honorable member. Some passages, it is 
true, had occurred, since our acquaintance in this body, 
which I could have wished might have been otherwise ; but 
I had used philosophy, and forgotten them. "When the 
honorable member rose, in his first speech, I paid him the 
respect of attentive listening; and when he sat down, 
though surprised, and I must say even astonished, at some 
of his opinions, nothing was further from my intention 
than to commence any personal warfare ; and through the 
whole of the few remarks I made in answer, I avoided, 
studiously and carefully, every thing which I thought pos- 
sible to be construed into disrespect. And, sir, while there 
is thus nothing originating here, which I wished at any time, 
or now wish, to discharge, I must repeat, also, that nothing 
has been received here which rankles, or in any way gives 

14* 



162 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

me annoyance. I will not accuse the honorable membel 
of violating the rules of civilized war : I will not say that 
he poisoned his arrows. But whether his shafts were, or 
were not, dipped in that which would have caused rankling 
if they had reached, there was not, as it happened, quite 
strength enough in the bow to bring them to their mark. 
If he wishes now to find those shafts, he must look for 
them elsewhere : they will not be found fixed and quivering 
in the object at which they were aimed. 

The honorable member complained that I had slept on 
his speech. I must have slept on it, or not slept at all. 
The moment the honorable member sat down, his friend 
from Missouri rose, and, with much honeyed commendation 
of the speech, suggested that the impressions which it had 
produced were too charming and delightful to be disturbed 
by other sentiments or other sounds, and proposed that 
the Senate should adjourn. Would it have been quite 
amiable in me, sir, to interrupt this excellent good feeling? 
Must I not have been absolutely malicious, if I could have 
thrust myself forward to destroy sensations thus pleasing? 
Was it not much better and kinder, both to sleep upon 
them myself, and to allow others, also, the pleasure of 
sleeping upon them ? But if it be meant, by sleeping 
upon his speech, that I took time to prepare a reply to it, 
it is quite a mistake. Owing to other engagements, I could 
not employ even the interval between the adjournment of 
the Senate and its meeting the next morning in attention 
to the subject of this debate. Nevertheless, sir, the mere 
matter of fact is undoubtedly true : I did sleep on the 
gentleman's speech, and slept soundly. And I slept 
equally well on his speech of yesterday, to which I am 
now replying. It is quite possible that, in this respect 
also, I possess some advantage over the honorable member, 
attributable, doubtless, to a cooler temperament on my 



ftf.PTA' TO Mr., ITAYXK. 163 

part ; for, in truth, I slept upon his speeches remarkably 
well. But the gentleman inquires why he was made the 
object of such a reply. Why was he singled out ? If an 
attack had been made on the East, he, he assures us, did 
not begin it : it was the gentleman from Missouri. Sir, I 
answered the gentleman's speech because I happened to 
hear it ; and because, also, I chose to give an answer to 
that speech, which, if unanswered, I thought most likely 
to produce injurious impressions. I did not stop to inquire 
who was the original drawer of the bill. I found a respon- 
sible endorser before me, and it was my purpose to hold 
him reliable, and to bring him to his just responsibility 
with ut delay. But, sir, this interrogatory of the honor- 
able member was only introductory to another. He pro- 
ceed *d to ask me whether I had turned upon him in this 
debate from the consciousness that I should find an over- 
match if I ventured on a contest with his friend from Mis- 
souri. If, sir, the honorable member, ex gratia modesties, 
had chosen thus to defer to his friend, and to pay him a 
compliment, without intentional disparagement to others, 
it would have been quite according to the friendly courte- 
sies of debate, and not at all ungrateful to my own feelings. 
I am not one of those, sir, who esteem any tribute of regard, 
whether light and occasional, or more serious and delibe- 
rate, which may be bestowed on others, as so much unjustly 
withholden from themselves. But the tone and manner of 
the gentleman's question forbid me thus to interpret it. I 
am not at liberty to consider it as nothing more than a 
civility to his friend. It had an air of taunt and disparage- 
ment, a little of the loftiness of asserted superiority, which 
does not allow me to pass it over without notice. It was 
put as a question for me to answer, and so put as if it were 
difficult for me to answer, whether I deemed the member 
from Missouri an overmatch for myself in debate here. It 



1<;4 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WKBSTER. 

seems to me, sir, that is extraordinary language, and an 
extraordinary tone for the discussions of this body. 

Matches and overmatches ! Those terms are more ap- 
plicable elsewhere than here, and fitter for other assemblies 
than this. Sir, the gentleman seems to forget where and 
what we are. ■This is a Senate ; a Senate of equals ; of men 
of individual honor and personal character, and of absolute 
independence. We know no masters ; we acknowledge no 
dictators. This is a hall for mutual consultation and dis- 
cussion, not an arena for the exhibition of champions. I 
offer myself, sir, as a match for no man ; I throw the chal- 
lenge of debate at no man's feet. But then, sir, since the 
honorable member has put the question in a manner that 
calls for an answer, I will give him an answer ; and I tell 
him that, holding myself to be the humblest of the members 
here, I yet know nothing in the arm of his friend from Mis- 
souri, either alone or when aided by the arm of his friend 
from South Carolina, that need deter even me from espous- 
ing whatever opinions I may choose to espouse, from debat- 
ing whenever I may choose to debate, or from speaking 
whatever I may see fit to say on the floor of the Senate. Sir, 
when uttered as matter of commendation or compliment, I 
should dissent from nothing which the honorable member 
might say of his friend. Still less do I put forth any pre- 
tensions of my own. But when put to me as matter of 
taunt, I throw it back, and say to the gentleman that he 
could possibly say nothing less likely than such a com- 
parison to wound my pride of personal character. The 
anger of its tone rescued the remark from intentional 
irony, which otherwise, probably, would have been its 
general acceptation. But, sir, if it be imagined that by 
this mutual quotation and commendation ; if it be sup- 
posed that, by casting the characters of the drama, assign- 
ing to each his part, — to one the attack, to another the 



KEFL\ TO MK. HAYjNE. lOO 

cry of onset, — or if it be thought that by a loud and 
empty vaunt of anticipated victory any laurels are to be 
won here ; if it be imagined, especially, that any or all 
these things will shake any purpose of mine, I can tell 
the honorable member, once for all, that he is greatly mis 
taken, and that he is dealing with one of whose tempei 
and character he has yet much to learn. Sir, I shall not 
allow myself, on this occasion, — I hope on no occasion,— 
to be betrayed into any loss of temper ; but if provoked, 
as I trust I never shall allow myself to be, into crimina- 
tion and recrimination, the honorable member may, per- 
haps, find that in that contest there will be blows to take 
as well as blows to give ; that others can state comparisons 
as significant, at least, as his own ; and that his impunity 
may, perhaps, demand of him whatever powers of taunt 
and sarcasm he may possess. I commend him to "a pru- 
dent husbandry of his resources. 

But, sir, the coalition ! The coalition ! Ay, " the mur- 
dered coalition !" The gentleman asks if I were led or 
frighted into this debate by the spectre of the coalition. 
"Was it the ghost of the murdered coalition," he exclaims, 
"which haunted the member from Massachusetts, and 
which, like the ghost of Banquo, would never down?" 
" The murdered coalition!" Sir, this charge of coalition, 
in reference to the late administration, is not original with 
the honorable member. It did not spring up in the Senate. 
Whether as a fact, as an argument, or as an embellishment, 
it is all borrowed. He adopts it, indeed, from a very low 
origin, and a still lower present condition. It is one of 
the thousand calumnies with which the press teemed during 
an excited political canvass. It was a charge of which 
there was not only no proof or probability, but which was, 
in itself, wholly impossible to be true. No man of com- 
mon information ever believed a syllable of it. Yet it was 



l(5t> SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEESTER. 

of that class of falsehoods which, by continued repetition 
through all the organs of detraction and abuse, are capa- 
ble of misleading those who are already far misled, and 
of further fanning passion already kindled into flame. 
Doubtless it served its day, and, in a greater or less 
degree, the end designed by it.' Having done that, it has 
sunk into the general mass of stale and loathed calumnies. 
It is the very cast-off slough of a polluted and shameless 
press. Incapable of further mischief, it lies in the sewer, 
lifeless and despised. It is not now, sir, in the power of 
the honorable member to give it dignity or decency, by at- 
tempting to elevate it, and to introduce it into the Senate. 
He cannot change it from what it is, — an object of general 
disgust and scorn. On the contrary, the contact, if he 
choose to touch it, is more likely to drag him down, down, 
to the place where it lies itself. 

But, sir, the honorable member was not, for other 
reasons, entirely happy in his allusion to the story of 
Banquo's murder and Banquo's ghost. It was not, I 
think, the friends, but the enemies of the murdered 
Banquo, at whose bidding his spirit would not down. The 
honorable gentleman is fresh in his reading of the English 
classics, and can put me right if I am wrong ; but, ac- 
cording to my poor recollection, it was at those who had 
begun with caresses, and ended with foul and treacherous 
murder, that the gory locks were shaken. The ghost of 
Banquo, like that of Hamlet, was an honest ghost. It 
disturbed no innocent man. It knew where its appearance 
would strike terror, and who would cry out, A ghost ! It 
made itself visible in the right quarter, and compelled the 
guilty and the conscience-smitten, and none others, to 
start, with 

" Prithee, see there ! behold ! — look ! lo ! 
If T stand here, I saw him !" 



REPLY TO MR. IIAYNE. 167 

Their eyeballs were seared — was it not so, sir ? — who had 
thought to shield themselves by concealing their own hand, 
and laying the imputation of the crime on a low and hire- 
ling agency in wickedness ; who had vainly attempted to 
stifle the workings of their own coward consciences, t>y 
ejaculating, through white lips and chattering teeth, 
" Thou canst not say I did it !" I have misread the 
great poet, if it was those who had noway partaken in 
the deed of death, who either found that they were, or 
feared that they should be, pushed from their stools by the 
ghost of the slain, or who cried out to a spectre created 
by their own fears and their own remorse, " Avaunt ! and 
quit our sight !" 

There is another particular, sir, in which the honorable 
member's quick perception of resemblances might, I should 
think, have seen something in the story of Banquo, making 
it not altogether a subject of the most pleasant contempla- 
tion. Those who murdered Banquo, what did they win by 
it ? Substantial good ? Permanent power ? Or disappoint- 
ment, rather, and sore mortification — dust and ashes — the 
common fate of vaulting ambition overleaping itself? Did 
not even-handed justice, ere long, commend the poisoned 
chalice to their own lips ? Did they not soon find that for 
another they had "filed their mind"? — that their ambi- 
tion, though apparently for the moment successful, had 
but put a barren sceptre in their grasp ? Ay, sir, — 

" A barreu sceptre in their gripe, 

Thence to be wrenched by an unlineal hand, 
No son of theirs succeeding." 

Sir, I need pursue the allusion no further. I leave the 
honorable gentleman to run it out at his leisure, and to 
derive from it all the gratification it is calculated to ad- 
minister. If he finds himself pleased with the associa 



168 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

tions, and prepared to be quite satisfied, though the 
parallel should be entirely completed, I had almost said 
I am satisfied also ; but that I shall think of. Yes, sir, I 
will think of that. 

.In the course of my observations the other day, Mr. 
President, I paid a passing tribute of respect to a very 
worthy man, Mr. Dane, of Massachusetts. It so hap- 
pened, that he drew the ordinance of 1787 for the govern- 
ment of the Northwestern Territory. A man of so much 
ability, and so little pretence ; of so great a capacity to 
do good, and so unmixed a disposition to do it for its own 
eake ; a gentleman who acted an important part, forty 
years ago, in a measure the influence of which is still 
deeply felt in the very matter which was the subject of 
debate, might, I thought, receive from me a commendatory 
recognition. 

But the honorable member was inclined to be facetious 
on the subject. He was rather disposed to make it matter 
of ridicule that I had introduced into the debate the name 
of one Nathan Dane, of whom he assures us he had never 
before heard. Sir, if the honorable member had never 
before heard of Mr. Dane, I am sorry for it. It shows 
him less acquainted with the public men of the country 
than I had supposed. Let me tell him, however, that a 
sneer from him at the mention of the name of Mr. Dane 
is in bad taste. It may well be a high mark of ambition, 
sir, either with the honorable gentleman or myself, to ac- 
complish as much to make our names known to advantage, 
and remembered with gratitude, as Mr. Dane has accom- 
plished. But the truth is, sir, I suspect Mr. Dane lives 
a little too far north. He is of Massachusetts, and too 
near the North Star to be reached by the honorable gentle- 
man's telescope. If his sphere had happened to range 



RKi'LY To MR. HAVXK. 1(59 

south of Mason and Dixon's line, he might, probably, have 
come within the scope of his vision ! 

I spoke, sir, of the ordinance of 1787, which prohibited 
slavery in all future time northwest of the Ohio, as a measure 
of great wisdom and foresight, and one which had been 
attended with highly beneficial and permanent conse- 
quences. I supposed that on this point no two gentle- 
men in the Senate could entertain different opinions. But 
the simple expression of this sentiment has led the gentle- 
man, not only into a labored defence of slavery in the 
abstract, and on principle, but also into a warm accusation 
against me, as having attacked the system of domestic 
slavery now existing in the Southern States. For all this 
there was not the slightest foundation in any thing said or 
intimated by me. I "did not utter a single word which 
any ingenuity could torture into an attack on the slavery 
of the South. I said only that it was highly wise and 
useful, in legislating for the Northwestern country, while 
it was yet a wilderness, to prohibit the introduction of 
slaves; and added, that I presumed, in the neighboring 
State of Kentucky, there was no reflecting and intelligent 
gentleman who would doubt that, if the same prohibition 
had been extended, at the same early period, over that 
commonwealth, her strength and population would, at this 
day, have been far greater than they are. If these 
opinions be thought doubtful, they are, nevertheless, I 
trust, neither extraordinary nor disrespectful. They at- 
tack nobody and menace nobody. And yet, sir, the 
gentleman's optics have discovered, even in the mere ex- 
pression of this sentiment, what he calls the very spirit of 
the Missouri question ! He represents me as making an 
onset on the whole South, and manifesting a spirit which 
would interfere with and disturb their domestic condition. 
Sir, this injustice no otherwise surprises me than as it is 

15 



170 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

done here, and done without the slightest pretence of 
ground for it. I say it only surprises me as being done 
here ; for I know full well that it is and has been the 
settled policy of some persons in the South, for years, to 
represent the people of the North as disposed to inter- 
fere with them in their own exclusive and peculiar con- 
cerns. This is a delicate and sensitive point in Southern 
feeling ; and of late years it has always been touched, 
and generally with effect, whenever the object has been 
to unite the whole South against Northern men or 
Northern measures. This feeling, always carefully kept 
alive, and maintained at too intense a heat to admit dis- 
crimination or reflection, is a lever of great power in our 
political machine. It moves vast bodies, and gives to 
them one and the same direction. But the feeling; is 
without adequate cause, and the suspicion which exists 
wholly groundless. There is not, and never has been, a 
disposition in the North to interfere with these interests 
of the South. Such interference has never been supposed 
to be within the power of Government, nor has it been in 
any way attempted. It has always been regarded as a 
matter of domestic policy, left with the States themselves, 
and with which the Federal Government had nothing to 
do. Certainly, sir, I am, and ever have been, of that 
opinion. The gentleman, indeed, argues that slavery in 
the abstract is no evil. Most assuredly I need not say I 
differ witli him altogether and most widely on that point. 
I regard domestic slavery* as one of the greatest of evils, 
both moral and political. But, though it be a malady, 
and whether it be curable, and if so, by what means, or, 
on the other hand, whether it be the vulnus immedvcabile 
of the social system, I leave it to those whose right and 
duty it is to inquire and to decide. And this I believe, 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 171 

sir, is, and uniformly has been, the sentiment of the 
North. Let us look a little at the history of this matter. 

When the present Constitution was submitted for the 
ratification of the people, there were those who imagined 
that the powers of the government which it proposed to 
establish might, perhaps, in some possible mode, be exerted 
in measures tending to the abolition of slavery. This 
suggestion would, of course, attract much attention in the 
Southern conventions. In that of Virginia, Governor 
Randolph said, 

" I hope there is none here, who, considering the subject 
in the calm light of philosophy, will make an objection 
dishonorable to Virginia — that, at the moment they are 
securing the rights of their citizens, an objection is started, 
that there is a spark of hope that those unfortunate men 
now held in bondage may, by the operation of the General 
Government, be made free." 

At the very first Congress, petitions on the subject were 
presented, if I mistake not, from different States. The 
Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of 
Slavery took a lead, and laid before Congress a memorial, 
praying Congress to promote the abolition by such powers 
as it possessed. This memorial was referred, in the House 
of Representatives, to a select committee, consisting of Mr. 
Foster, of New Hampshire, Mr. Gerry, of Massachusetts, 
Mr. Huntington, of Connecticut, Mr. Lawrence, of New 
York, Mr. Sinnickson, of New Jersey, Mr. Hartley, of 
Pennsylvania, and Mr. Parker, of Virginia ; all of them, 
sir, as you will observe, Northern men, but the last. This 
committee made a report, which was committed to a com- 
mittee of the whole House, and there considered and dis- 
cussed on several days ; and being amended, although in 
no material respect, it was made to express three distinct 
propositions on the subjects of slavery and the slave-trade. 



172 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

First, in the words of the Constitution, that Congress 
could not, prior to the year 1808, prohibit the migration 
or importation of such persons as any of the States then 
existing should think proper to admit. Second, that Con- 
gress had authority to restrain the citizens of the United 
States from carrying on the African slave-trade for the 
purpose of supplying foreign countries. On this proposi- 
tion, our early laws against those who engage in that traffic 
are founded. The third proposition, and that which bears 
on the present question, was expressed in the following 
terms : 

" Hesolved, That Congress have no authority to interfere 
in the emancipation of slaves, or in the treatment of them 
in any of the States ; it remaining with the several States 
alone to provide rules and regulations therein which 
humanity and true policy may require." 

This resolution received the sanction of the House of 
Representatives so early as March, 1790. And now, sir, 
the honorable member will allow me to remind him, that 
not only were the select committee who reported the resolu- 
tion, with a single exception, all Northern men, but also 
that of the members then composing the House of Repre- 
sentatives, a large majority, I believe nearly two-thirds, 
were Northern men also. 

The House agreed to insert these resolutions in its 
journal ; and, from that day to this, it has never been 
maintained or contended that Congress had any authority 
to regulate or interfere with the condition of slaves in the 
several States. No Northern gentleman, to my know- 
ledge, has moved any such question in either House of 
Congress. 

The fears of the South, whatever fears they might have 
entertained, were allayed and quieted by this early deci- 
sion ; and so remained, till they were excited afresh, with- 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 173 

out cause, but for collateral and indirect purposes. When 
it became necessary, or was thought so, by some political 
persons, to find an unvarying ground for the exclusion of 
Northern men from confidence and from lead in the affairs 
of the Republic, then, and not till then, the cry was raised, 
and the feeling industriously excited, that the influence of 
Northern men in the public councils would endanger the 
relation of master and slave. For myself, I claim no other 
merit, than that this gross and enormous injustice toward 
the whole North has not wrought upon me to change my 
opinions, or my political conduct. I hope I am above 
violating my principles, even under the smart of injury 
and false imputations. Unjust suspicions and undeserved 
reproach, whatever pain I may experience from them, will 
not induce me, I trust, nevertheless, to overstep the limits 
of constitutional duty, or to encroach on the rights of 
others. The domestic slavery of the South I leave where 
I find it — in the hands of their own Governments. It is 
their affair, not mine. Nor do I complain of the peculiar 
effect which the magnitude of that population has had in 
the distribution of power under this Federal Government. 
We know, sir, that the representation of the States in the 
other House is not equal. We know that great advantage 
in that respect is enjoyed by the slaveholding States; and 
we know, too, that the intended equivalent for that advan- 
tage — that is to say, the imposition of direct taxes in the 
same ratio — has become merely nominal ; the habit of the 
Government being almost invariably to collect its revenues 
from other sources and in other modes. Nevertheless, I 
do not complain ; nor would I countenance any movement 
to alter this arrangement of representation. It is the 
original bargain, the compact : let it stand ; let the advan- 
tage of it be fully enjoyed. The Union itself is too full 
of benefit to be hazarded in propositions for changing its 

15* 



17*1 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

original basis. I go for the Constitution as it is, and for 
the Union as it is. But I am resolved not to submit, in 
silence, to accusations, either against myself individually, 
or against the North, wholly unfounded and unjust — ac- 
cusations which impute to us a disposition to evade the 
constitutional compact and to extend the power of the 
Government over the internal laws and domestic condition 
of the States. All such accusations, wherever and when- 
ever made, all insinuations of the existence of any such 
purposes, I know and feel to be groundless and injurious. 
And we must confide in Southern gentlemen themselves ; 
we must trust to those whose integrity of heart and mag- 
nanimity of feeling will lead them to a desire to maintain 
and disseminate truth, and who possess the means of its 
diffusion with the Southern public ; we must leave it to 
them to disabuse that public of its prejudices. But in the 
mean time, for my own part, I shall continue to act justly, 
whether those toward whom justice is exercised receive it 
with candor or with contumely. 

Having had occasion to recur to the ordinance of 1787, 
in order to defend myself against the inferences which the 
honorable member has chosen to draw from ray former ob- 
servations on that subject, I am not willing now entirely 
to take leave of it without another remark. It need hardly 
be said, that that paper expresses just sentiments on the 
great subject of civil and religious liberty. Such senti- 
ments were common, and abound in all our State papers 
of that day. But this ordinance did that which was not so 
common, and which is not, even now, universal ; that is, it 
set forth and declared, as a high and binding duty of Go- 
vernment itself, to encourage schools and advance the 
means of education ; on the plain reason that religion, 
morality, and knowledge are necessary to good govern- 
ment and the happiness of mankind. One observation 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 175 

further. The important provision incorporated into the 
Constitution of the United States, and several of those of 
the States, and recently, as we have seen, adopted into the 
reformed Constitution of Virginia, restraining legislative 
power in questions of private right and from impairing 
the obligation of contracts, is first introduced and esta- 
blished, as far as I am informed, as matter of express 
written constitutional law, in this ordinance of 1787. And 
I must add, also, in regard to the author of the ordinance, 
who has not had the happiness to attract the gentleman's 
notice heretofore, nor to avoid his sarcasm now, that he 
was chairman of that select committee of the old Congress 
whose report first expressed the strong sense of that body 
that the old Confederation was not adequate to the exi- 
gencies of the country, and recommending to the States to 
send delegates to the convention which formed the present 
Constitution. 

An attempt has been made to transfer from the North 
to the South the honor of this exclusion of slavery from 
the Northwestern Territory. The journal, without argu- 
ment or comment, refutes such attempt. The session of 
Virginia was made March, 1784. On the 19th of April 
following, a committee, consisting of Messrs. Jefferson, 
Chase, and Howell, reported a plan for a temporary go- 
vernment of the Territory, in which was this article: 
" That after the year 1800 there shall be neither slavery 
nor involuntary servitude in any of the said States, other- 
wise than in punishment of crimes whereof the party shall 
have been convicted." Mr. Speight, of North Carolina, 
moved to strike out this paragraph. The question was put, 
according to the form then practised : " Shall these words 
stand, as part of the plan," &c. New Hampshire, Mas- 
sachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New 
Jersey, and Pennsylvania — seven States — voted in the 



176 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

affirmative ; Maryland, Virginia, and South Carolina in 
the negative. North Carolina was divided. As the con- 
sent of nine States was necessary, the words could not 
stand, and were struck out accordingly. Mr. Jefferson 
voted for the clause, but was overruled by his colleagues. 

In March of the next year, (1785,) Mr. King, of Mas- 
sachusetts, seconded by Mr. Ellery, of Rhode Island, pro- 
posed the formerly-rejected article, with this addition : 
"And that this regulation shall be an article of compact, 
and remain a fundamental j^incijjle of the Constitution, 
between the thirteen original States and each of the /States 
described in the resolve," &c. On this clause, which pro- 
vided the adequate and thorough security, the eight 
Northern States, at that time, voted affirmatively, and the 
four Southern States negatively. The votes of nine States 
were not yet obtained, and thus the provision was again 
rejected by the Southern States. The perseverance of the 
North held out, and two years afterward the object was 
attained. It is no derogation from the credit, whatever 
that may be, of drawing the ordinance, that its principles 
had before been prepared and discussed, in the form of 
resolutions. If one should reason in that way, what would 
become of the distinguished honor of the author of the 
Declaration of Independence ? There is not a sentiment 
in that paper which had not been voted and resolved in the 
assemblies, and other popular bodies in the country, over 
and over again. 

But the honorable member has now found out that this 
gentleman, Mr. Dane, was a member of the Hartford Con- 
vention. However uninformed the honorable member may 
be of characters and occurrences at the North, it would 
seem that he has at his elbows, on this occasion, some 
high-minded and lofty spirit, some magnanimous and true- 
hearted monitor, possessing the means of local knowledge, 



KJiTLY TO MR. HAYNE. 177 

and ready to supply the honorable member with every 
thing, down even to forgotten and moth-eaten twopenny 
pamphlets, which may be used to the disadvantage of his 
own country. But, as to the Hartford Convention, sir, 
allow me to say, that the proceedings of that body seem 
now to be less read and studied in New England than 
farther south. They appear to be looked to, not in New 
England, but elsewhere, for the purpose of seeing how far 
they may serve as a precedent. But they will not answer 
the purpose : they are quite too tame. The latitude in 
which they originated was too cold. Other conventions, 
of more recent existence, have gone a whole bar's length 
beyond it. The learned doctors of Colleton and Abbeville 
have pushed their commentaries on the Hartford collect so 
far that the original text-writers are thrown entirely into 
the shade. I have nothing to do, sir, with the Hartford 
Convention. Its journal, which the gentleman has quoted, 
I never read. So far as the honorable member may dis- 
cover in its proceedings a spirit in any degree resembling 
that which was avowed and justified in those other con- 
ventions to which I have alluded, or so far as those pro- 
ceedings can be shown to be disloyal to the Constitution, 
or tending to disunion, so far I shall be as ready as any 
one to bestow on them reprehension and censure. 

Having dwelt long on this Convention, and other occur- 
rences of that day, in the hope, probably, (which will not 
be gratified,) that I should leave the course of this debate 
to follow him at length in those excursions, the honorable 
member returned, and attempted another object. He 
referred to a speech of mine in the other House, the same 
which I had occasion to allude to myself the other day, 
and has quoted a passage or two from it, with a bold though 
uneasy and laboring air of confidence, as if he had detected 
in me an inconsistency. Judging from the gentleman's 



178 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

manner, a stranger to the course of the debate, and to the 
point in discussion, would have imagined, from so triumphant 
a tone, that the honorable member was about to overwhelm 
me with a manifest contradiction. Any one who heard 
him, and who had not heard what I had, in fact, previously 
said, must have thought me routed and discomfited, as the 
gentleman had promised. Sir, a breath blows all this 
triumph away. There is not the slightest difference in the 
sentiments of my remarks on the two occasions. What I 
said here on Wednesday is in exact accordance with the 
opinions expressed by me in the other House in 1825. 
Though the gentleman had the metaphysics of Hudibras, — 
though he were able 

" to sever and divide 
A hair 'twixt north and northwest side,"-— 

he could not yet insert his metaphysical scissors between 
the fair reading of my remarks in 1825 and what I said 
here last week. There is not only no contradiction, no 
difference, but, in truth, too exact a similarity, both in 
thought and language, to be entirely in just taste. I had 
myself quoted the same speech, had recurred to it, and 
spoke with it open before me ; and much of what I said 
was little more than a repetition from it. In order to make 
finishing work with this alleged contradiction, permit me 
to recur to the origin of this debate, and review its course. 
This seems expedient, and may be done as well now as at 
any time. 

Well, then, its history is this : the honorable member 
from Connecticut moved a resolution, which constituted 
the first branch of that which is now before us ; that is to 
say, a resolution instructing the committee on public 
lands to inquire into the expediency of limiting, for a 
certain period, the sales of public lands to such as have 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 179 

heretofore been offered for sale ; and whether sundry 
offices, connected with the sales of the lands, might not be 
abolished without detriment to' the public service. 

In the progress of the discussion which arose on this 
resolution, an honorable member from New Hampshire 
moved to amend the resolution, so as entirely to reverse 
its object ; that is, to strike it all out, and insert a direc- 
tion to the committee to inquire into the expediency of 
adopting measures to hasten the sales and extend more 
rapidly the surveys of the lands. 

The honorable member from Maine (Mr. Sprague) sug- 
gested that both these propositions might well enough go, 
for consideration, to the committee ; and in this state of 
the question, the member from South Carolina addressed 
the Senate in his first speech. He rose, he said, to give 
us his own free thoughts on the public lands. I saw him 
rise with pleasure, and listened with expectation, though 
before he concluded I was filled with surprise. Certainly, 
I was never more surprised than to find him following up, 
to the extent he did, the sentiments and opinions which 
the gentleman from Missouri had put forth, and which it 
is known he has long entertained. 

I need not repeat at large the general topics of the 
honorable gentleman's speech. When he said yesterday 
that he did not attack the Eastern States, he certainly 
must have forgotten not only particular remarks, but the 
whole drift and tenor of his speech ; unless he means by 
not attacking, that he did not commence hostilities, but 
that another had preceded him in the attack. He, in the 
first place, disapproved of the whole course of the Govern- 
ment for forty years, in regard to the dispositions of the 
public land ; and then, turning northward and eastward, 
and fancying he had found a cause for alleged narrowness 
and niggardliness in the " accursed policy" of the tariff, 



180 SPEECHRS OF DA\!KL WEBSTER. 

to which he represented the people of New England as 
wedded, he went on, for a full hour, with remarks, the 
whole scope of which was to exhibit the results of this 
policy, in feelings and in measures unfavorable to the 
West. I thought his opinions unfounded and erroneous 
as to the general course of the Government, and ventured 
to reply to them. 

The gentleman had remarked on the analogy of other 
cases, and quoted the conduct of European Governments 
toward their own subjects settling "on this continent as in 
point, to show that we had been harsh and rigid in selling 
when we should have given the public lands to settlers. I 
thought the honorable member had suffered his judgment 
to be betrayed by a false analogy ; that he was struck 
with an appearance of resemblance where there was no 
real similitude. I think so still. The first settlers of 
North America were enterprising spirits, engaged in 
private adventure, or fleeing from tyranny at home. 
When arrived here, they were forgotten by the mother- 
country, or remembered only to- be oppressed. Carried 
away again by the appearance of analogy, or struck 
with the eloquence of the passage, the honorable member 
yesterday observed that the conduct of Government 
toward the Western emigrants, or my representation of it, 
brought to his mind a celebrated speech in the British 
Parliament. It was, sir, the speech of Colonel Barre\ 
On the question of the stamp act, or tea tax, I forget which, 
Colonel Barrd had heard a member on the Treasury bench 
argue, that the people of the United States, being British 
colonists, planted by the maternal care, nourished by the 
indulgence, and protected by the arms of England, would 
not grudge their mite to relieve the mother-country from 
the heavy burden under which she groaned. The Ian- 
guage of Colonel Barrd in reply to this was, " They 



REfLY TO MR. IIAYNE. 181 

planted by your care ? Your oppression planted them in 
America. They fled from your tyranny, and grew by 
your neglect of them. So soon as you began to care for 
them, you showed your care by sending persons to spy out 
their liberties, misrepresent their character, prey upon 
them, and eat out their substance." 

And now, does the honorable gentleman mean to main- 
tain that language like this is applicable to the conduct 
of the Government of the United States toward the 
Western emigrants, or to any representation given by me 
of that conduct ? Were the settlers in the West driven 
thither by our oppression ? Have they flourished only by 
our neglect of them ? Has the Government done nothing 
but to prey upon them and eat out their substance ? Sir, 
this fervid eloquence of the British speaker, just when and 
where it was uttered, and fit to remain an exercise for the 
schools, is not a little out of place when it was brought 
thence to be applied here, to the conduct of our own 
country toward her own citizens. From America to 
England it may be true ; from Americans to their own 
Government it would be strange language. Let us leave 
it to be recited and declaimed by our boys against a 
foreign nation ; not introduce it here, to recite and de- 
claim ourselves against our own. 

But I come to the point of the alleged contradiction. 
In my remarks on Wednesday, I contended that we could 
not give away gratuitously all the public lands ; that we 
held them in trust; that the Government had solemnly 
pledged itself to dispose of them as a common fund for 
the common benefit, and to sell and settle them as its 
discretion should dictate. Now, sir, what contradiction 
does the gentleman find to this sentiment in the speech of 
1825 ? He quotes me as having then said, that we ought 
not to hug these lands as a very great treasure. Very 

16 



132 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

well, sir ; supposing me to be accurately reported in that 
expression, what is the contradiction? I have not now 
said that we should hug these lands as a favorite source 
of pecuniary income. No such thing. It is not my view. 
What I have said and what I do say is, that they are a 
common fund — to be disposed of for the common benefit — 
to be sold at low prices, for the accommodation of settlers, 
keeping the object of settling the lands as much in view 
as that of raising money from them. This I say now, 
and this I have always said. Is this hugging them as a 
favorite treasure ? Is there no diiference between hug- 
ging and hoarding this fund, on the one hand, as a great 
treasure, and, on the other, of disposing of it at low prices, 
placing the proceeds in the general treasury of the Union ? 
My opinion is, that as much is to be made of the land as 
fairly and reasonably may be, selling it all the while at 
such rates as to give the fullest effect to settlement. This 
is not giving it all away to the States, as the gentleman 
would propose ; nor is it hugging the fund closely and 
tenaciously as a favorite treasure ; but it is, in my judg- 
ment, a just and wise policy, perfectly according with all 
the various duties which rest on Government. So much 
for my contradiction. And what is it ? Where is the 
ground of the gentleman's triumph? What inconsistency, 
in word or doctrine, has lie been able to detect ? Sir, if 
this be a sample of that discomfiture with which the 
honorable gentleman threatened me, commend me to the 
word discomfiture for the rest of my life. 

But, after all, this is not the point of the debate : and I 
must bring the gentleman back to that which is the point. 

The real question between me and him is, Where has 
the doctrine been advanced, at the South or the East, that 
the population of the West should be retarded, or, at least, 
need not be hastened, on account of its effect to drain off 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 1 83 

the people from the Atlantic States ? Is this doctrine, as 
has been alleged, of Eastern origin ? That is the question. 
Has the gentleman found any thing by which he can make 
good his accusation ? I submit to the Senate, that he has 
entirely failed ■ and as far as this debate has shown, the 
only person who has advanced such sentiments is a gentle- 
man from South Carolina, and a friend to the honorable 
member himself. The honorable gentleman has given no 
answer to this ; there is none which can be given. This 
simple fact, while it requires no comment to enforce it, 
defies all argument to refute it. I could refer to the 
speeches of another Southern gentleman, in years before, 
of the same general character, and to the same effect, as 
that which has been quoted ; but I will not consume the 
time of the Senate by the reading of them. 

So then, sir, New England is guiltless of the policy of 
retarding Western population, and of all envy and jealousy 
of the growth of the new States. Whatever there be of 
that policy in the country, no part of it is hers. If it has 
a local habitation \ the honorable member has probably 
seen, by this time, where he is to look for it; and if it 
now has received a name, he himself has christened it. 

We approach, at length, sir, to a more important part 
of the honorable gentleman's observations. Since it does 
not accord with my views of justice and policy to vote 
away the public lands altogether, as mere matter of 
gratuity, I am asked, by the honorable gentleman, on what 
ground it is that I consent to give them away in particular 
instances. How, he inquires, do I reconcile with these 
professed sentiments my support of measures appropriating 
portions of the lands to particular roads, particular canals, 
particular rivers, and particular institutions of education 
in the West? This leads, sir, to the real and wide dif- 
ference in political opinions between the honorable gentle- 



184 SPEECHES OF I>ANIEL WEBSTER. 

man and myself. On my part, I look upon all these 
objects as connected with the common good, fairly em 
braced in its objects and its terms ; he, on the contrary, 
deems them all, if good at all, only local good. This is 
our difference. The interrogatory which he proceeded to 
put at once explains this difference. "What interest," 
asks he, " has South Carolina in a canal in Ohio ?" Sir, 
this very question is full of significance. It develops the 
gentleman's whole political system ; and its answer ex- 
pounds mine. Here we differ toto coelo. I look upon a 
road over the Alleghany, a canal round the falls of the 
Ohio, or a canal or railway from the Atlantic to the 
Western waters, as being objects large and extensive 
enough to be fairly said to be for the common benefit. 
The gentleman thinks otherwise ; and this is the key to 
open his construction of the powers of the Government. 
He may well ask, upon his system, What interest has 
South Carolina in a canal in Ohio ? On that system, it is 
true, she has no interest. On .that system, Ohio and Caro- 
lina are different governments and different countries, con- 
nected here, it is true, by some slight and ill-defined bond 
of union, but in all main respects separate and diverse. 
On that system, Carolina has no more interest in a canal 
in Ohio than in Mexico. The gentleman, therefore, only 
follows out his own principles ; he does no more than 
arrive at the natural conclusions of his own doctrines ; he 
only announces the true results of that creed which he has 
adopted himself, and would persuade others to adopt, when 
he thus declares that South Carolina has no interest in a 
public work in Ohio. Sir, we narrow-minded people of 
New England do not reason thus. Our notion of things 
is entirely different. We look upon the States, not as 
separated, but as united. We love to dwell on that Union, 
and on the mutual happiness which it has so much pro 



REPLY TO MR. IIAYXE. 185 

moted, and the common renown which it has so greatly 
contributed to acquire. In our contemplation, Carolina 
and Ohio are parts of the same country — States united 
under the same General Government, having interests com- 
mon, associated, intermingled. In whatever is within the 
proper sphere of the constitutional power of this Govern- 
ment, we look upon the States as one. We do not impose 
geographical limits to our patriotic feeling or regard ; we 
do not follow rivers, and mountains, and lines of latitude, 
to find boundaries beyond which public improvements do 
not benefit us. We, who come here as agents and repre- 
sentatives of those narrow-minded and selfish men of New 
England, consider ourselves as bound to regard, with equal 
eye, the good of the whole, in whatever is within our power 
of legislation. Sir, if a railroad or a canal, beginning in 
South Carolina, and ending in South Carolina, appeared 
to me to be of national importance and national magnitude, 
believing as I do that the power of Government extends to 
the encouragement of works of that description, if I were 
to stand up here and ask, " What interest has Massachu- 
setts in a railroad in South Carolina?" I should not be 
willing to face my constituents. These same narrow- 
minded men would tell me that they had sent me to act 
for the whole country, and that one who possessed too 
little comprehension, either "of intellect or feeling, one 
who was not large enough, in mind and heart, to embrace 
the whole, was not fit to be intrusted with the interest of 
any part. Sir, I do not desire to enlarge the powers of 
the Government by unjustifiable construction, nor to exer- 
cise any not within a fair interpretation. But when it is 
believed that a power does exist, then it is, in my judgment^ 
to be exercised for the general benefit of the whole : so far 
as respects the exercise of such a power, the States are 
one. It was the very object of the Constitution to create 

16* 



186 SPEECHES OE DAXIEL WEBSTER. 

unity of interests to the extent of the powers of the Gene* 
ral Government. In war and peace we are one ; in com- 
merce, one ; because the authority of the General Govern- 
ment reaches to war and peace, and to the regulation of 
commerce. I have never seen any more difficulty in erect- 
ing lighthouses on the lakes than on the ocean ; in improv- 
ing the harbors of inland seas than if they were within 
the ebb and flow of the tide ; or of removing obstructions 
in the Vast streams of the West, more than in any work to 
facilitate commerce on the Atlantic coast. If there be 
power for one, there is power also for the other ; and they 
are all and equally for the country. 

There are other objects, apparently more local, or the 
benefit of which is less general, toward which, nevertheless, 
I have concurred with others to give aid by donations of 
land. It is proposed to construct a road in or through 
one of the new States in which this Government possesses 
large quantities of land. Have the United States no 
right, as a great and untaxed proprietor — are they under 
no obligation — to contribute to an object thus calculated to 
promote the common good of all the proprietors, them- 
selves included ? And even with respect to education, 
which is the extreme case, let the question be considered. 
In the first place, as we have seen, it was made matter of 
compact with these States that they should do their part 
to promote education. In the next place, our whole sys- 
tem of land-laws proceeds on the idea that education is 
for the common good ; because, in every division, a certain 
portion is uniformly reserved and appropriated for the use 
of schools. And. finally, have not these new States 
singularly strong claims, founded on the ground already 
stated, that the Government is a great untaxed proprietor 
in the ownership of the soil ? It is a consideration of 
great importance that probably there is in no part of the 



REPLY TO Mil. H-AYXft 187 

country, or of the world, so great a call for the means of 
education as in those new States, owing to the vast num- 
ber of persons within those ages in which education and 
instruction are usually received, if received at all. This 
is the natural consequence of recency of settlement and 
rapid increase. The census of these States shows how 
great a proportion of the whole population occupies the 
classes between infancy and manhood. These are the 
wide fields, and here is the deep and quick soil for the 
seeds of knowledge and virtue ; and this is the favored 
season, the spring-time for sowing them. Let them be 
disseminated without stint. Let them be scattered with 
a bountiful broadcast. Whatever the Government can 
fairly do toward these objects, in my opinion, ought to be 
done. 

These, sir, are the grounds, succinctly stated, on which 
my votes for grants of lands for particular objects rest, 
while I maintain, at the same time, that it is all a common 
fund, for the common benefit. And reasons like these, I 
presume, have influenced the votes of other gentlemen from 
New England. Those who have a different view of the 
powers of the Government, of course, come to different 
conclusions on these as on other questions. I observed, 
when speaking on this subject before, that if we looked to 
any measure, whether for a road, a canal, or any thing 
else intended for the improvement of the West, it would 
be found, that if the New England ayes were struck out 
of the list of votes, the Southern noes would always have 
rejected the measure. The truth of this has not been 
denied, and cannot be denied. In stating this, I thought 
it just to ascribe it to the constitutional scruples of the 
South, rather than to any other less favorable or less 
charitable cause. But no sooner had I done this, than 
che honorable gentleman asks if I reproach him and his 



188 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

friends with their constitutional scruples. Sir, I reproach 
nobody. I stated a fact, and gave the most respectful 
reason for it that occurred to me. The gentleman cannot 
deny the fact ; he may, if he choose, disclaim the reason. 
It is not long since I had occasion, in presenting a petition 
from his own State, to account for its being intrusted to 
my hands by saying, that the constitutional opinions of 
the gentleman and his worthy colleague prevented them 
from supporting it. Sir, did I state this as a matter of 
reproach ? Far from it. Did I attempt to find any other 
cause than an honest one for these scruples ? Sir, I did 
not. It did not become me to doubt, nor to insinuate that 
the gentleman had either changed his sentiments, or that 
he had made up a set of constitutional opinions accommo- 
dated to any particular combination of political occur- 
rences. Had I done so, I should have felt that, while 1 
was entitled to little respect in thus questioning other 
people's motives, I justified the whole world in suspecting 
my own. 

But how has the gentleman returned this respect for 
others' opinions ? His own candor and justice, how have 
they been exhibited toward the motives of others, while 
he has been at so much pains to maintain — what nobody 
has disputed — the purity of his own ? Why, sir, he has 
asked when, and how, and ivhy New England votes were 
found going for measures favorable to the West; he has 
demanded to be informed whether all this did not begin 
in 1825, and while the election of President tvas still 
pending. Sir, to these questions retort would be justi- 
fied ; and it is both cogent and at hand. Nevertheless, I 
will answer the inquiry not by retort, but by facts. I will 
tell the gentleman when, and how, and why New England 
has supported measures favorable to the West. I have 
already referred to the early history of the Government — 



REPLY TO Mil. IIAYNE. 189 

to the first acquisition of the lands — to the original laws 
for disposing of them and for governing the territories 
where they lie, and have shown the influence of New 
England men and New England principles in all these 
leading measures. I should not be pardoned were I to 
go over that ground again. Coming to more recent times, 
and to measures of a less general character, I have en- 
deavored to prove that every thing of this kind designed 
for Western improvement has depended on the votes of 
New England. All this is true beyond the power of con- 
tradiction. 

And now, sir, there are two measures to which I will 
refer, not so ancient as to belong to the early history of 
the public lands, and not so recent as to be on this side 
of the period when the gentleman charitably imagines a 
new direction may have been given to New England feel- 
ing and New England votes. These measures, and the 
New England votes in support of them, may be taken as 
samples and specimens of all the rest. In 1820, (observe, 
Mr. President, in 1820,) the people of the West besought 
Congress for a reduction in the price of lands. In favor 
of that reduction, New England, with a delegation of 
forty members in the other House, gave thirty-three votes, 
and one only against it. The four Southern States, with 
fifty members, gave thirty-two votes for it, and seven 
against it. Again, in 1821, (observe again, sir, the time,) 
the law passed for the relief of the purchasers of the 
public lands. This was a measure of vital importance to 
the West, and more especially to the Southwest. It 
authorized the relinquishment of contracts for lands which 
had been entered into at high prices, and a reduction, in 
other cases, of not less than 37J per cent, on the pur- 
chase-money. Many millions of dollars, six or seven, I 
believe, at least, — probably much more, — were relinquished 



190 SPEECHES OE DANIEL WEBSTER. 

by this law. On this bill New England, with her forty 
members, gave more affirmative votes than the four 
Southern States with their fifty-two or three members. 
These two are far the most important measures respecting 
the public lands which have been adopted within the last 
twenty years. They took place in 1820 and 1821. 
That is the time when. And as to the manner how, the 
gentleman already sees that it was by voting, in solid 
column, for the required relief; and lastly, as to the 
cause why, I tell the gentleman it was because the mem- 
bers from New England thought the measures just and 
salutary ; because they entertained toward the West 
neither envy, hatred, nor malice ; because they deemed it 
becoming them, as just and enlightened public men, to 
meet the exigency which had arisen in the West with the 
appropriate measure of relief; because they felt it due to 
their own characters, and the characters of their New 
England predecessors in this Government, to act toward 
the new States in the spirit of a liberal, patronizing, 
magnanimous policy. So much, sir, for the cause why ; 
and I hope that by this time, sir, the honorable gentle- 
man is satisfied ; if not, I do not know when, or how, or 
why, he ever will be. 

Having recurred to these two important measures, in 
answer to the gentleman's inquiries, I must now beg per- 
mission to go back to a period still something earlier, for 
the purpose still further of showing how much, or rather 
how little, reason there is for the gentleman's insinuation 
that political hopes or fears, or party-associations, were 
the grounds of these New England votes. And after what 
has been said, I hope it may be forgiven me if I allude to 
some political opinions and votes of my own, of very little 
public importance, certainly, but which, from the time at 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 191 

which they were given and expressed, may pass for good 
witnesses on this occasion. 

This Government, Mr. President, from its origin to the 
peace of 1815, had been too much engrossed with various 
other important concerns to be able to turn its thoughts 
inward and look to the development of its vast internal 
resources. In the early part of President Washington's 
administration, it was fully occupied with organizing the 
Government, providing for the public debt, defending the 
frontiers, and maintaining domestic peace. Before the 
termination of that administration, the fires of the French 
Revolution blazed forth, as from a new-opened volcano, 
and the whole breadth of the ocean did not entirely secure 
us from its effects. The smoke and the cinders reached 
us, though not the burning lava. Difficult and agitating 
questions, embarrassing to Government, and dividing public 
opinion, sprung out of the new state of our foreign rela- 
tions, and were succeeded by others, and yet again by 
others, equally embarrassing, and equally exciting division 
and discord, through the long series of twenty years, till 
they finally issued in the war with England. Down to the 
close of that war, no distinct, marked, and deliberate atten- 
tion had been given, or could have been given, to the 
internal condition of the country, its capacities of improve- 
ment, or the constitutional power of the Government in 
regard to objects connected with such improvement. 

The peace, Mr. President, brought about an entirely new 
and a most interesting state of things ; it opened to us 
other prospects, and suggested other duties ; we ourselves 
were changed, and the whole world was changed. The 
pacification of Europe, after June, 1815, assumed a firm 
and permanent aspect. The nations evidently manifested 
that they were disposed for peace : some agitation of the 
waves might be expected, even after the storm had sub- 



192 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

sided; but the tendency was, strongly and rapidly, toward 
settled repose. 

It so happened, sir, that I was at that time a membei 
of Congress, and, like others, naturally turned my atten- 
tion to the contemplation of the newly-altered condition 
of the country, and of the world. It appeared plainly 
enough to me, as well as to wiser and more experienced 
men, that the policy of the Government would necessarily 
take a start in a new direction ; because new directions 
would necessarily be given to the pursuits and occupations 
of the people. We had pushed our commerce far and fast, 
under the advantage of a neutral flag. But there were 
now no longer flags, either neutral or belligerent. The 
harvest of neutrality had been great, but we had gathered 
it all. With the peace of Europe, it was obvious there 
would spring up, in her circle of nations, a revived and 
invigorated spirit of trade, and a new activity in all the 
business and objects of civilized life. Hereafter, our com- 
mercial gains were to be earned only by success in a close 
and intense competition. Other nations would produce for 
themselves, and carry for themselves, and manufacture for 
themselves, to the full extent of their abilities. The crops 
of our plains would no longer sustain European armies, nor 
our ships longer supply those whom war had rendered 
unable to supply themselves. It was obvious, that, under 
these circumstances, the country would begin to survey 
itself, and to estimate its own capacity of improvement. 
And this improvement, how was it to be accomplished, and 
who was to accomplish it ? 

We were ten or twelve millions of people, spread over 
almost half a world. We were twenty-four States, some 
stretching along the same sea-board, some along the same 
line of inland frontier, and others on opposite banks of the 
same vast rivers. Two considerations at once presented 



KEPLY TO MR. HAYXE. 1#3 

themselves, in looking at this state of things, with great 
force. One was, that that great branch of improvement, 
which consisted in furnishing new facilities of intercourse, 
necessarily ran into different States, in every leading in- 
stance, and would benefit the citizens of all such States. 
No one State, therefore, in such cases, would assume the 
whole expense, nor was the co-operation of several States 
to be expected. Take the instance of the Delaware Break- 
water. It will cost several millions of money. Would 
Pennsylvania alone have ever constructed it ? Certainly 
never, while this Union lasts, because it is not for her sole 
benefit. Would Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware 
have united to accomplish it, at their joint expense ? Cer- 
tainly not, for the same reason. It could not be done, 
therefore, but by the General Government. The same 
may be said of the large inland undertakings, except that, 
in them, Government, instead of bearing the whole expense, 
co-operates with others who bear a part. The other con- 
sideration is, that the United States have the means. They 
enjoy the revenues derived from commerce, and the States 
have no abundant and easy sources of public income. The 
custom-houses fill the general treasury, while the States 
have scanty resources, except by resort to heavy direct 
taxes. 

Under this view of things, I thought it necessary to 
settle, at least for myself, some definite notions, with 
respect to the powers of Government in regard to internal 
affairs. It may not savor too much of self-commendation 
to remark, that, with this object, I considered the Con- 
stitution, its judicial construction, its contemporaneous 
exposition, and the whole history of the legislation of Con- 
gress under it; and I arrived at the conclusion that Govern- 
ment has power to accomplish sundry objects, or aid in 
their accomplishment, which are now commonly spoken of 

17 



194 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

as Internal Improvements. That conclusion, sir, may 
have been right, or it may have been wrong. I am not 
about to argue the grounds of it at large. I say only that 
it was adopted, and acted on, even so early as in 1816. 
Yes, Mr. President, I made up my opinion, and determined 
on my intended course of political conduct on these sub- 
jects, in the 14th Congress, in 1816. And now, Mr. Pre- 
sident, I have further to say, that I made up these opinions, 
and entered on this course of political conduct, Teucro duce- 
Yes, sir, I pursued, in all this, a South Carolina track. On 
the doctrines of internal improvement, South Carolina, as 
she was then represented in the other House, set forth, in 
1816, under a fresh and leading breeze ; and I was among 
the followers. But if my leader sees new lights, and turns 
a sharp corner, unless I see new lights also, I keep straight 
on in the same path. I repeat, that leading gentlemen 
from South Carolina were first and foremost in behalf of 
the doctrines of internal improvements, when those doc- 
trines first came to be considered and acted upon in Con- 
gress. The debate on the bank-question, on the tariff of 
1816, and on the direct tax, will show who was who, and 
what was what, at that time. The tariff of 1816, one of 
the plain cases of oppression and usurpation, from which, 
if the Government does not recede, individual States may 
justly secede from the Government, is, sir, in truth, a 
South Carolina tariff, supported by South Carolina votes. 
But for those votes, it could not have passed in the form in 
which it did pass ; whereas, if it had depended on Mas- 
sachusetts votes, it would have been lost. Does not the 
honorable gentleman well know all this ? There are cer- 
tainly those who do full well know it all. I do not say 
this to reproach South Carolina ; I only state the fact, and 
I think it will appear to be true, that among the earliest 
and boldest advocates of the tariff, as a measure of pro- 



REPLY TO MP. IIAYNE. 10.5 

tection, and on the express ground of protection, were 
leading gentlemen of South Carolina in Congress. I did 
not then, and cannot now, understand their language in 
any other sense. While this tariff of 1816 was under dis- 
cussion in the House of Representatives, an honorable 
gentleman from Georgia, now of this House, (Mr. Forsyth,) 
moved to reduce the proposed duty on cotton. He failed 
by four votes, South Carolina giving three votes (enough to 
have turned the scale) against his motion. The act, sir, 
then passed, and received on its passage the support of a 
majority of the Representatives of South Carolina present 
and voting. This act is the first in the order of those now 
denounced as plain usurpations. We see it daily in the list 
by the side of those of 1824 and 1828, as a case of manifest 
oppression, justifying disunion. I put it home to the 
honorable member from South Carolina, that his own State 
was not only " art and part" in this measure, but the causa 
causans. Without her aid, this seminal principle of mis- 
chief, this root of upas, could not have been planted. I 
have already said — and it is true — that this act proceeded 
on the ground of protection. It interfered directly with 
existing interests of gre # at value and amount. It cut up 
the Calcutta cotton-trade by the roots. But it passed, 
nevertheless, and it passed on the principle of protecting 
manufactures, on the principle against free trade, on the 
principle opposed to that which lets us alone. 

Such, Mr. President, were the opinions of important and 
leading gentlemen of South Carolina, on the subject of 
internal improvement, in 1816. I went out of Congress the 
next year, and, returning again in 1823, thought I found 
South Carolina where I had left her. I really supposed 
that all things remained as they were, and that the South 
Carolina doctrine of internal improvements would be de- 
fended by the same eloquent voices and the same strong 



196 SPEECHES OF DANIEL \\ KhSTBR. 

arms as formerly. In the lapse of these six years, it is 
true, political associations had assumed a new aspect and 
new divisions. A party had arisen in the South, hostile to 
the doctrine of internal improvements, and had vigorously 
attacked that doctrine. Anti-consolidation was the flag 
under which this party fought, and its supporters inveighed 
against internal improvements, much after the same manner 
in which the honorable gentleman has now inveighed 
against them, as part and parcel of the system of con- 
solidation. 

Whether this party arose in South Carolina herself, or 
in her neighborhood, is more than I know. I think the 
latter. However that may have been, there were those 
found in South Carolina ready to make war upon it, and 
who did make intrepid war upon it. Names being regarded 
as things in such controversies, they bestowed on the anti- 
improvement gentlemen the appellation of radicals. Yes, 
sir, the name of radicals, as a term of distinction, appli- 
cable and applied to those who denied the liberal doctrines 
of internal improvements, originated, according to the best 
of my recollection, somewhere between North Carolina and 
Georgia. Well, sir, those mischievous radicals were to be 
put down, and the strong arm of South Carolina was 
stretched out to put them down. About this time, sir, I 
returned to Congress. The battle with the radicals had 
been fought, and our South Carolina champions of the doc- 
trines of internal improvement had nobly maintained their 
ground, and were understood to have achieved a victory. 
They had driven back the enemy with discomfiture ; a 
thing, by-the-way, sir, which is not always performed when 
it is promised. A gentleman, to whom I have already 
referred in this debate, had come into Congress, during my 
absence from it, from South Carolina, and had brought 
with him a high reputation for ability. He came from a 



REPLY TO MR. IIAYNE. 197 

school with which we had been acquainted, et noscitur a 
sociis. I hold in my hand, sir, a printed speech of this 
distinguished gentleman, (Mr. McDuffie,) " on internal 
improvements," delivered about the period to which I now 
refer, and' printed with a few introductory remarks upon 
consolidation ; in which, sir, I think he quite consolidated 
the arguments of his opponents, the radicals, if to crush 
be to consolidate. I give you a short but substantive 
quotation from these remarks. He is speaking of a pam- 
phlet, then recently published, entitled " Consolidation :" 
and having alluded to the question of rechartering the 
former Bank of the United States, he says, " Moreover, 
in the early history of parties, and when Mr. Crawford 
advocated the renewal of the old charter, it was considered 
a Federal measure ; which internal improvement never 
was, as this author erroneously states. This latter measure 
originated in the administration of Mr. Jeiferson, with the 
appropriation for the Cumberland road ; and was first pro- 
posed, as a system, by Mr. Calhoun, and carried through 
the House of Representatives by a large majority of the 
Republicans, including almost every one of the leading 
men who carried us through the late war." 

So, then, internal improvement is not one of the Federal 
heresies. 

One paragraph more, sir. 

" The author in question, not content with denouncing 
as Federalists General Jackson, Mr. Adams, Mr. Calhoun, 
and the majority of the South Carolina delegation in Con- 
gress, modestly extends the denunciation to Mr. Monroe 
and the whole Republican party. Here are his words : 
' During the administration of Mr. Monroe, much has 
passed which the Republican party would be glad to ap- 
prove, if they could ! But the principal feature, and that 
which has chiefly elicited these observations, is the renewal 



< - 



198 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

of the SYSTEM OF INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS.' Now, this 

measure was adopted by a vote of 115 to 86, of a Repub- 
lican Congress, and sanctioned by a Republican President 
Who, then, is this author, who assumes the high prerogative 
of denouncing, in the name of the Republican party, the 
Republican administration of the country — a denunciation 
including withiu its sweep Calhoun, Lowndes and Cheves ; 
men who will be regarded as the brightest ornaments of 
South Carolina, and the strongest pillars of the Republican 
party, as long as the late war shall be remembered, and 
talents and patriotism shall be regarded as the proper ob- 
jects of the admiration and gratitude of a free people?" 

Such are the opinions, sir, which were maintained by 
South Carolina gentlemen in the House of Representa- 
tives on the subject of internal improvement, when I took 
my seat there as a member from Massachusetts, in 1823. 
But this is not all ; we had a bill before us, and passed it 
in that House, entitled "An act to procure the necessary 
surveys, plans and estimates upon the subject of roads 
and canals." It authorized the President to cause surveys 
and estimates to be made of the routes of such roads and 
canals as he might deem of national importance in a com- 
mercial or military point of view, or for the transportation 
of the mail; and appropriated thirty thousand dollars out 
of the treasury to defray the expense. This act, though 
preliminary in its nature, covered the whole ground. It 
took for granted the complete power of internal improve- 
ment, as far as any of its advocates had ever contended 
for it. Having passed the other House, the bill came up 
to the Senate, and was here considered and debated in 
April, 1824. The honorable member from South Carolina 
was a member of the Senate at that time. While the bill 
was under consideration here, a motion was made to add 
the following proviso : 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 19V> 

" Provided, That nothing herein contained shall be 
construed to affirm or admit a power in Congress, on their 
own authority, to make roads or canals within any of the 
States of the Union." 

The yeas and nays w T ere taken on this proviso, and the 
honorable member voted in the negative. The proviso 
failed. 

A motion was then made to add this provision, — viz. : 

" Provided, That the faith of the United States is 
hereby pledged, that no money shall ever be expended 
for roads or canals, except it shall be among the several 
States, and in the same proportion as direct taxes are laid 
and assessed by the provisions of the Constitution." 

The honorable member voted against this proviso also, 
and it failed. 

The bill was then put on its passage, and the honorable 
member voted for it, and it passed, and became a law. 

Now, it strikes me, sir, that there is no maintaining 
these votes but upon the power of internal improvement, 
in its broadest sense. In truth, these bills for surveys 
and estimates have always been considered as test-ques- 
tions. They show who is for and who against internal 
improvement. This law itself went the whole length, and 
assumed the full and complete power. The gentleman's 
votes sustained that power, in every form in which the 
various propositions to amend presented it. He went for 
the entire and unrestrained authority, without consulting 
the States, and without agreeing to any proportionate dis- 
tribution. And now, suffer me to remind you, Mi\ Pre- 
sident, that it is this very same power, thus sanctioned, in 
every form, by the gentleman's own opinion, that is so 
plain and manifest a usurpation that the State of South 
Carolina is supposed to be justified in refusing submission 
to any laws carrying the power into effect. Truly, sir, is 



200 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

not this a little too hard ? May we not crave some 
mercy, under favor and protection of the gentleman's own 
authority ? Admitting that a road or a canal must be 
written down flat usurpation as ever was committed, may 
we find no mitigation in our respect for his place, and his 
vote, as one that knows the law ? 

The tariff which South Carolina had an efficient hand 
in establishing in 1816, and this asserted power of internal 
improvement, — advanced by her in the same year, and, as 
we have now seen, approved and sanctioned by her repre- 
sentatives in 1824, — these two measures are the great 
grounds on which she is now thought to be justified in 
breaking up the Union, if she sees fit to break it up. 

I may now safely say, I think, that we have had the au- 
thority of leading and distinguished gentlemen from South 
Carolina in support of the doctrine of internal improve- 
ment. I repeat, that, up to 1824, I, for one, followed South 
Carolina ; but when that star in its ascension veered off 
in an unexpected direction, I relied on its light no longer. 
[Here the Vice-President said, Does the Chair under- 
stand the gentleman from Massachusetts to say that the 
person now occupying the chair of the Senate has changed 
his opinions on the subject of internal improvements ?] 
From nothing ever said to me, sir, have I had reason to 
know of any change in the opinions of the person filling 
the chair of the Senate. If such change has taken place, 
I regret it ; I speak generally of the State of South 
Carolina. Individuals we know there are who hold opi- 
nions favorable to the power. An application for its ex- 
ercise in behalf of a public work in South Carolina itself 
is now pending, I believe, in tne other House, presented by 
members from that State. 

I have thus, sir, perhaps not without some tediousness 
of detail, shown that, if I am in error on the subject of 



REPLY TO MR. 1IAYNE. 201 

internal improvements, how and in what company I fell 
into that error. If I am wrong, it is apparent who misled 
me. 

I go to other remarks of the honorable member, — and 1 
have to complain of an entire misapprehension of what I 
said on the subject of the national debt — though I can 
hardly perceive how any one could misunderstand me. 
What I said was, not that I wished to put off the payment 
of the debt, but, on the contrary, that I had always voted 
for every measure for its reduction, as uniformly as the 
gentleman himself. He seems to claim the exclusive merit 
of a disposition to reduce the public charge ; I do not 
allow it to him. As a debt, I was, I am, for paying it ; 
because it is a charge on our finances, and on the industry 
of the country. But I observed that I thought I per- 
ceived a morbid fervor on that subject ; an excessive 
anxiety to pay off the debt ; not so much because it is a 
debt simply, as because, while it lasts, it furnishes one 
objection to disunion. It is a tie of common interest 
while it lasts. I did not impute such motive to the honor- 
able member himself; but that there is such a feeling in 
existence I have not a particle of doubt. The most I 
said was, that if one effect of the debt was to strengthen 
our Union, that effect itself was not regretted by me, 
however much others might regret it. The gentleman 
has not seen how to reply to this otherwise than by sup- 
posing me to have advanced the doctrine that a national 
debt is a national blessing. Others, I must hope, will find 
less difficulty in understanding me. I distinctly and 
pointedly cautioned the honorable member not to under- 
stand me as expressing an opinion favorable to the con- 
tinuance of the debt. I repeated this caution, and re- 
peated it more than once — but it was thrown away. 

On yet another point I was still more unaccountably 



202 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

misunderstood. The gentleman had harangued against 
"consolidation." I told him, in reply, that there was one 
kind of consolidation to which I was attached, and that 
was, the CONSOLIDATION OF OUR Union ; and that this 
was precisely that consolidation to which I feared others 
were not attached ; that such consolidation was the very 
end of the Constitution — the leading object, as they had 
informed us themselves, which its framers had kept in 
view. I turned to their communication, and read their 
very words, — " the consolidation of the Union," — and ex- 
pressed my devotion to this sort of consolidation. I said 
in terms that I wished not, in the slightest degree, to aug- 
ment the powers of this Government ; that my object was 
to preserve, not to enlarge ; and that, by consolidating the 
Union, I understood no more than the strengthening of the 
Union and perpetuating it. Having been thus explicit, 
having thus read, from the printed book, the precise words 
which I adopted, as expressing my own sentiments, it 
passes comprehension, how any man could understand me 
as contending for an extension of the powers of the Govern- 
ment, or for consolidation in that odious sense in which it 
means an accumulation, in the Federal Government, of the 
powers properly belonging to the States. 

I repeat, sir, that, in adopting the sentiments of the 
framers of the Constitution, I read their language audibly. 
and word for word ; and I pointed out the distinction, just 
as fully as I have now done between the consolidation of 
the Union and that other obnoxious consolidation which [ 
disclaimed : and yet the honorable gentleman misunder- 
stood me. The gentleman had said that he wished for no 
fixed revenue — not a shilling. If, by a word, he could con- 
vert the Capitol into gold, he would not do it. Why all 
this fear of revenue ? Why, sir, because, as the gentleman 
told us, it tends to consolidation. Now, this can mean 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 203 

neither more nor less than that a common revenue is a 
common interest, and that all common interests tend to 
hold the union of the States together. I confess I like 
that tendency ; if the gentleman dislikes it, he is right in 
deprecating a shilling's fixed revenue. So much, sir, for 
consolidation. 

As well as I recollect the course of his remarks, the 
honorable gentleman next recurred to the subject of the 
tariff. He did not doubt the word must be of unpleasant 
sound to me, and proceeded, with an effort neither new nor 
attended with new success, to involve me and my votes in 
inconsistency and contradiction. I am happy the honor- 
able gentleman has furnished me an opportunity of a timely 
remark or two on that subject. I was glad he approached 
it, for it is a question I enter upon without fear from any- 
body. The strenuous toil of the gentleman has been to 
raise an inconsistency between my dissent to the tariff in 
1824 and my vote in 1828. It is labor lost. He pays 
undeserved compliment to my speech in 1824 ; but this is 
to raise me high, that my fall, as he would have it, in 1828 
may be the more signal. Sir, there was no fall at all. 
Between the ground I stood on in 1824 and that I took in 
1828, there was not only no precipice, but no declivity. It 
was a change of position, to meet new circumstances, but 
on the same level. A plain tale explains the whole matter 
In 1816, I had not acquiesced in the tariff, then supported 
by South Carolina. To some parts of it, especially, I felt 
and expressed great repugnance. I held the same opinions 
in 1821, at the meeting in Faneuil Hall, to which the gen- 
tleman has alluded. I said then, and say now, that, as an 
original question, the authority of Congress to exercise tht 
revenue power, with direct reference to the protection oi 
manufactures, is a questionable authority, far more ques- 
tionable, in my judgment, than the power of internal im 



204 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

provements. I must confess, sir, that, in one respect, some 
impression has been made on my opinions lately. Mr. 
Madison's publication has put the power in a very strong 
light. He has placed it, I must acknowledge, upon grounds 
of construction and argument which seem impregnable. 
But, even if the power were doubtful, on the face of the 
Constitution itself, it had been assumed and asserted in the 
first revenue law ever passed under that same Constitution ; 
and, on this ground, as a matter settled by contemporaneous 
practice, I had refrained from expressing the opinion that 
the tariff laws transcended constitutional limits, as the gen- 
tleman supposes. What I did say at Faneuil Hall, as far 
as I now remember, was, that this was originally matter 
of doubtful construction. The gentleman himself, I sup- 
pose, thinks there is no doubt about it, and that the laws 
are plainly against the Constitution. Mr. Madison's let- 
ters, already referred to, contain, in my judgment, by far 
the most able exposition extant of this part of the Con- 
stitution. He has satisfied me, so far as the practice of the 
Government had left it an open question. 

With a great majority of the Representatives of Mas- 
sachusetts, I voted against the tariff of 1824. My reasons 
were then given, and I will not now repeat them. But 
notwithstanding our dissent, the great States of New York, 
Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky went for the bill, in 
almost unbroken column, and it passed. Congress and the 
President sanctioned it, and it became the law of the land. 
What, then, were we to do ? Our only option was either 
to fall in with this settled course of public policy, and to 
accommodate ourselves to it as well as we could, or to 
embrace the South Carolina doctrine, and talk of nullifying 
the statute by State interference. 

This last alternative did not suit our principles, and, of 
course, we adopted the former. In 1827, the subject came 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 205 

again before Congress, on a proposition favorable to wool 
and woollens. We looked upon the system of protection 
as being fixed and settled. The law of 1824 remained. 
It had gone into full operation, and in regard to some 
objects intended by it, perhaps most of them, had produced 
all its expected effects. No man proposed to repeal it — no 
man attempted to renew the general contest on its principle.' 
But, owing to subsequent and unforeseen occurrences, the 
benefit intended by it to wool and woollen fabrics had not 
been realized. 4 Events, not known here when the law 
passed, had taken place, which defeated its object in that 
particular respect. A measure was accordingly brought 
forward to meet this precise deficiency, to remedy this par- 
ticular defect. It was limited to wool and woollens. Was 
ever any thing more reasonable? If the policy of the 
tariff-laws had become established in principle as the per- 
manent policy of the Government, should they not be 
revised and amended, and made equal, like other laws, as 
exigencies should arise, or justice require ? Because we 
had doubted about adopting the system, were we to refuse 
to cure its manifest defects after it became adopted, and 
when no one attempted its repeal ? And this, sir, is the 
inconsistency so much bruited. I had voted against the 
tariff of 1824— but it passed; and in 1827 and 1828, I 
voted to amend it in a point essential to the interest of my 
constituents. Where is the inconsistency ? Could I do 
otherwise ? 

Sir, does political consistency consist in always giving 
negative votes ? Does it require of a public man to refuse 
to concur in amending laws because they passed against 
his consent? Having voted against the tariff originally, 
does consistency demand that I should do all in my power 
to maintain an unequal tariff, burdensome to my own con- 
stituents in many respects, — favorable in none ? To con* 

18 



206 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSIER. 

sistency of that sort I lay no claim : and there is another 
sort to which I lay as little — and that is, a kind of con- 
sistency by which persons feel themselves as much bound 
to oppose a proposition after it has become the law of the 
land as before. 

The bill of 1827, limited, as I have said, to the single 
object in which the tariff of 1824 had manifestly failed in 
its effect, passed the House of Representatives, but was 
lost here. We had then the act of 1828. I need not 
recur to the history of a measure so recent. Its enemies 
spiced it with whatsoever they thought would render it 
distasteful ; its friends took it, drugged as it was. Vast 
amounts of property, many millions, had been invested in 
manufactures, under the inducements of the act of 1824. 
Events called loudly, as I thought, for further regulations 
to secure the degree of protection intended by that act. 
I was disposed to vote for such regulations, and desired 
nothing more ; but certainly was not to be bantered out 
of my purpose by a threatened augmentation of duty on 
molasses, put into the bill for the avowed purpose of 
making it obnoxious. The vote may have been right or 
wrong, wise or unwise ; but it is little less than absurd to 
allege against it an inconsistency with opposition to the 
former law. 

Sir, as to the general subject of the tariff, I have little 
now to say. Another opportunity may be presented. I 
remarked, the other day, that this policy did not begin 
with us in New England ; and yet, sir, New England is 
charged with vehemence as being favorable, or charged 
with equal vehemence as being unfavorable, to the tariff 
policy, just as best suits the time, place, and occasion for 
making some charge against her. The credulity of the 
public has been put to its extreme capacity of false im- 
pression relative to her conduct in this particular. Through 



£Ef>LY TO MR. HAtNE. 20? 

all the South) during the late contest, it was New England 
policy, and a New England administration, that was afflict- 
ing the country with a tariff policy beyond all endurance, 
while on the other side of the Alleghany, even the act of 
1828 itself — the very sublimated essence of oppression, 
according to Southern opinions — was pronounced to be one 
of those blessings for which the West was indebted to the 
" generous South." 

With large investments in manufacturing establishments, 
and various interests connected with and dependent on 
them, it is not to be expected that New England, any more 
than other portions of the country, will now consent to any 
measure destructive or highly dangerous. The duty of 
the Government, at the present moment, would seem to 
be to preserve, not to destroy ; to maintain the position 
which it has assumed ; and for one, I shall feel it an indis- 
pensable obligation to hold it steady, as far as in my 
power, to that degree of protection which it has under- 
taken to bestow. No more of the tariff. 

Professing to be provoked by what he chose to consider 
a charge made by me against South Carolina, the honor- 
able member, Mr. President, has taken up a new crusade 
against New England. Leaving altogether the subject of 
the public lands, in which his success, perhaps, had been 
neither distinguished nor satisfactory, and letting go, also, 
of the topic of the tariff, he sallied forth in a general 
assault on the opinions, politics, and parties of New Eng- 
land, as they have been exhibited in the last thirty years. 
This is natural. The "narrow policy" of the public lands 
had proved a legal settlement in South Carolina, and was 
not to be removed. The " accursed policy" of the tariff, 
also, had established the fact of its birth and parentage 
in the same State. No wonder, therefore, the gentlemar 
wished to carry the war, as he expressed it, into the 



208 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

enemy's country. Prudently willing to quit these sub 
jects, he was doubtless desirous of fastening others, whicfc 
could not be transferred south of Mason and Dixon's line- 
The politics of New England became his theme ; and it 
was in this part of his speech, I think, that he menaced me 
with such sore discomfiture. 

Discomfiture ! why, sir, when he attacks any thing which 
I maintain, and overthrows it ; when he turns the right or 
left of any position which I take up ; when he drives me 
from airy ground I choose to occupy, he may then talk of 
discomfiture, but not till that distant day. What has he 
done ? Has he maintained his own charges ? Has he 
proved what he alleged ? Has he sustained himself in his 
attack on the Government, and on the history of the 
North, in the matter of the public lands ? Has he dis- 
proved a fact, refuted a proposition, weakened an argu- 
ment, maintained by me ? Has he come within beat of 
drum of any position of mine ? Oh, no ; but he has 
" carried the war into the enemy's country" ! Carried 
the war into the enemy's country ! Yes, sir, and what 
sort of a war has he made of it? Why, sir, he has 
stretched a drag-net over the whole surface of perished 
pamphlets, indiscreet sermons, frothy paragraphs, and 
fuming popular addresses ; over whatever the pulpit in 
its moments of alarm, the press in its heats, and parties in 
their extravagance, have severally thrown off, in times of 
general excitement and violence. He has thus swept 
together a mass of such things, as, but that they are now 
old, the public health would have required him rather to 
leave in their state of dispersion. 

For a good long hour or two, we had the unbroken 
pleasure of listening to the honorable member, while he 
recited, with his usual grace and spirit, and with evident 
high gusto, speeches, pamphlets, addresses, and all the et 



REPLY TO MR. H^YXE. 209 

ceteras of the political press, such as warm heads produce 
in warm times, and such as it would be " discomfiture" 
indeed for any one, whose taste did not delight in that 
sort of reading, to be obliged to peruse. This is his war. 
This is to carry the war into the enemy's country. It is 
in an invasion of this sort that he flatters himself with 
the expectation of gaining laurels fit to adorn a Senator's 
brow. 

Mr. President, I shall not, it will, I trust, not be ex- 
pected that I should, either now or at any time, separate 
this farrago into parts, and answer and examine its com- 
ponents. I shall hardly bestow upon it all a general re- 
mark or two. In the run of forty years, sir, under this 
Constitution, we have experienced sundry successive 
violent party contests. Party arose, indeed, with the 
Constitution itself, and in some form or other has attended 
through the greater part of its history. 

Whether any other Constitution than the old articles 
of confederation was desirable was, itself, a question on 
which parties formed ; if a new Constitution was framed, 
what powers should be given to it was another question ; 
and when it had been formed, what was, in fact, the just 
extent of the powers actually conferred, was a third. 
Parties, as we know, existed under the first administra- 
tion, as distinctly marked as those which manifested them- 
selves at any subsequent period. 

The contest immediately preceding the political change 
in 1801, and that, again, which existed at the commence- 
ment of the late war, are other instances of party excite- 
ment of something more than usual strength and intensity. 
In all these conflicts there was, no doubt, much of violence 
on both and all sides. It would be impossible, if one had a 
fancy for such employment, to adjust the relative quantum 

of violence between these two contending parties. There 

; . .'.: '* 18* ':.':■• 



210 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

was enough in each, as must always be expected in popular 
governments. With a great deal of proper and decorous 
discussion there was mingled a great deal, also, of decla- 
mation, virulence, crimination, and abuse. 

In regard to any party, probably, at one of the leading 
epochs in the history of parties, enough may be found to 
make out another equally inflamed exhibition as that with 
which the honorable member has edified us. For myself, 
sir, I shall not rake among the rubbish of by-gone times 
to see what I can find, or whether I cannot find something 
by which I can fix a blot on the escutcheon of any State, 
any party, or any part of the country. General Washing- 
ton's administration was steadily and zealously maintained, 
as we all know, by New England. It was violently op- 
posed elsewhere. We know in what quarter he had the 
most earnest, constant, and persevering support, in all his 
great and leading measures. We know where his private 
and personal character were held in the highest degree of 
attachment and veneration ; and we know, too, where his 
measures were opposed, his services slighted, and his cha- 
racter vilified. 

We know, or we might know, if we turn to the journals, 
who expressed respect, gratitude, and regret, when he 
retired from the chief-magistracy ; and who refused to 
express either respect, gratitude, or regret. I shall not 
open those journals. Publications more abusive or scurri- 
lous never saw the light than were sent forth against 
Washington, and all his leading measures, from presses 
south of New England ; but I shall not look them up. 
I employ no scavengers — no one is in .attendance on me, 
tendering such means of retaliation ; and if there were, 
with an ass's load of them, with a bulk as huge as that 
which the gentleman himself has produced, I would not 
touch one of them. I see enough of the violence of om 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 211 

own times to be no way anxious to rescue from forgetful- 
ness the extravagances of times past. Besides, what is 
all this to the present purpose ? It has nothing to do with 
the public lands, in regard to which the attack was begun ; 
and it has nothing to do with those sentiments and 
opinions, which I have thought tend to disunion, and all 
of which the honorable member seems to have adopted 
himself, and undertaken to defend. New England has, 
at times, — so argues the gentleman, — held opinions as 
dangerous as those which he now holds. Be it so. But 
why, therefore, does he abuse New England ? If he finds 
himself countenanced by acts of hers, how is it that, 
while he relies on these acts, he covers, or seeks to cover, 
their authors with reproach? 

But, sir, if, in the course of forty years, there have 
been undue effervescences of party 7 in New England, has 
the same thing happened nowhere else ? Party animosity 
and party outrage, not in New England, but elsewhere, 
denounced President Washington, not only as a Federalist, 
but as a tory, a British agent, a man who, in his high office, 
sanctioned corruption. But does the honorable member 
suppose that, if I had a tender here, who should put such 
an effusion of wickedness and folly in my hand, that I 
would stand up and read it against the South ? Parties 
ran into great heats, again, in 1799 and 1800. What was 
said, sir, or rather what was not said, in those years, 
against John Adams, one of the signers of the Declaration 
of Independence, and its admitted ablest defender on the 
floor of Congress? If the gentleman wants to increase 
his stores of party abuse and frothy violence, if he has a 
determined proclivity to such pursuits, there are treasures 
of that sort south of the Potomac, much to his taste, yet 
untouched. I shall not touch them. 

The parties which divided the country, at the commence- 



212 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

ment of the late war. were violent. But, then, there was 
violence on both sides, and violence in every State. 
Minorities and majorities were equally violent. There 
was no more violence against the war in New T England 
than in other States ; nor any more appearance of violence, 
except that, owing to a dense population, greater facility 
for assembling, and more presses, there may have been 
more, in quantity, spoken and printed there than in some 
other places. In the article of sermons, too, New England 
is somewhat more abundant than South Carolina ; and for 
that reason, the chance of finding here and there an ex- 
ceptionable one may be greater. I hope, too, there are 
more good ones. Opposition may have been more for- 
midable in New England, as it embraced a larger portion 
of the whole population ; but it was no more unrestrained 
in its principle, or violent in manner. The minorities 
dealt quite as harshly with their own State Governments 
as the majorities dealt with the administration here. 
There w T ere presses on both sides, popular meetings on 
both sides, ay, and pulpits on both sides, also. The 
gentleman's purveyors have only catered for him among 
the productions on one side. I certainly shall not supply 
the deficiency by furnishing samples of the other. I leave 
to him, and to them, the whole concern. 

It is enough for me to say, that if, in any part of this 
their grateful occupation — if in all their researches — they 
find any thing in the history of Massachusetts, or New 
England, or in the proceedings of any legislative or other 
public body, disloyal to the Union, speaking slightly of 
its value, proposing to break it up, or recommending non- 
intercourse with neighboring States, on account of dif- 
ference of political opinion, then, sir, I give them all up 
to the honorable gentleman's unrestrained rebuke ; expect- 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 213 

ing, however, that he will extend his bufferings, in like 
manner, to all similar proceedings, wherever else found. 

The gentleman, sir, has spoken at large of former 
parties, now no longer in being, by their received appella- 
tions, and has undertaken to instruct us, not only in the 
knowledge of their principles, but of their respective 
pedigrees also. He has ascended to their origin, and run 
out their genealogies. With most exemplary modesty, he 
speaks of the party to which he professes to have belonged 
himself, as the true, pure, the only honest, patriotic party, 
derived by regular descent, from father to son, from the 
time of the virtuous Romans ! Spreading before us the 
family-tree of political parties, he takes especial care to 
show himself snugly perched on a popular bough ! He 
is wakeful to the expediency of ^ adopting such rules of 
descent, for political parties, as shall bring him in, in 
exclusion of others, as an heir to the inheritance of all 
public virtue, and all true political principles. His doxy 
is always orthodoxy. Heterodoxy is confined to his op- 
ponents. He spoke, sir, of the Federalists, and I thought 
I saw some eyes begin to open and stare a little, when he 
ventured on that ground. I expected he would draw his 
sketches rather slightly, when he looked on the circle 
round him, and especially if he should cast his thoughts 
to the high places out of the Senate. Nevertheless, he 
went back to Rome, ad annum urbe eondita, and found 
the fathers of the Federalist in the primeval aristocrats of 
that renowned empire ! He traced the flow of Federal 
blood down through successive ages and centuries, till he 
got into the veins of the American tories, (of whom, by- 
the-way, there were twenty in the Carolinas for one in 
Massachusetts.) From the tories, he followed it to the 
Federalists ; and as the Federal party was broken up, and 
there was no possibility of transmitting it farther on thi". 



214 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

side of the Atlantic, he seems to have discovered that it 
has gone off, collaterally, though against all the canons 
of descent, into the ultras of France, and finally became 
extinguished, like exploded gas, among the adherents of 
Don Miguel. 

This, sir, is an abstract of the gentleman's history of 
Federalism. I am not about to controvert it. It is not, 
at present, worth the pains of refutation, because, sir, if at 
this day one feels the sin of Federalism lying heavily on 
his conscience, he can easily obtain remission. He may 
even have an indulgence, if he is desirous of repeating the 
transgression. It is an affair of no difficulty to get into 
this same right line of patriotic descent. A man, nowa- 
days, is at liberty to choose his political parentage. He 
may elect his own father. . Federalist or not, he may, if he 
choose, claim to belong to the favored stock, and his claim 
will be allowed. He may carry back his pretensions just 
as far as the honorable gentleman himself; nay, he may 
make himself out the honorable gentleman's cousin, and 
prove satisfactorily that he is descended from the same 
political great-grandfather. All this is allowable. We all 
know a process, sir, by which the whole Essex Junto could, 
in one hour, be all washed white from their ancient Fede- 
ralism, and come out, every one of them, an original 
Democrat, dyed in the wool ! Some of them have actually 
undergone the operation, and they say it is quite easy. 
The only inconvenience it occasions, as they tell us, is a 
slight tendency of the blood to the face, a soft suffusion, 
which, however, is very transient, since nothing is said 
calculated to deepen the red on the cheek, but a prudent 
silence observed in regard to all the past. Indeed, sir, 
some smiles of approbation have been bestowed, and some 
crumbs of comfort have fallen, not a thousand miles from 
the door of the Hartford Convention itself. And if the 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 215 

author of the ordinance of 178T possessed the other re- 
quisite qualifications, there is no knowing, notwithstanding 
his Federalism, to what heights of favor he might not yet 
attain. 

Mr. President, in carrying his warfare, such as it was, 
into New England, the honorable gentleman all along pro- 
fesses to be acting on the defensive. He desires to con- 
sider me as having assailed South Carolina, and insists 
that he comes forth only as her champion, and in her de- 
fence. Sir, I do not admit that I made any attack what- 
ever on South Carolina. Nothing like it. The honorable 
member, in his first speech, expressed opinions, in regard 
to revenue, and some other topics, which I heard both with 
pain and surprise. I told the gentleman that I was aware 
that such sentiments were entertained out of the Govern- 
ment, but had not expected to find them advanced in it ; 
that I knew there were persons in the South who speak of 
our Union with indifference, or doubt, taking pains to 
magnify its evils, and to say nothing of its benefits ; that 
the honorable member himself, I was sure, could never be 
one of these ; and I regretted the expression of such opi- 
nions as he had avowed, because I thought their obvious 
tendency was to encourage feelings of disrespect to the 
Union, and to weaken its connection. This, sir, is the sum 
and substance of all I said on the subject. And this con- 
stitutes the attack which called on the chivalry of the gen- 
tleman, in his opinion, to harry us with such a forage 
among the party pamphlets and party proceedings of Mas- 
sachusetts. If he means that I spoke with dissatisfaction 
or disrespect of the ebullitions of individuals in South 
Carolina, it is true. But if he means that I had assailed 
the character of the State, her honor, or patriotism, that I 
had reflected on her history or her conduct, he had not the 
slightest ground for any such assumption. I did not even 



216 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

refer, I think, in my observations, to any collection of 
individuals. I said nothing of the recent Conventions. I 
spoke in the most guarded and careful manner, and only 
expressed my regret for the publication of opinions which 
I presumed the honorable member disapproved as much as 
myself. In this, it seems, I was mistaken. 

I do not remember that the gentleman has disclaimed 
any sentiment, or any opinion, of a supposed anti-Union 
tendency, which on all or any of the recent occasions has 
been expressed. The whole drift of his speech has been 
rather to prove, that, in divers times and manners, senti- 
ments equally liable to objection have been promulgated in 
New England. And one would suppose that his object, in 
this reference to Massachusetts, was to find a precedent to 
justify proceedings in the South, were it not for the re- 
proach and contumely with which he labors, all along, to 
load his precedents. 

By way of defending South Carolina from what he 
chooses to think an attack on her, he first quotes the ex- 
ample of Massachusetts, and then denounces that example, 
in good set terms. This twofold purpose, not very con- 
sistent with itself, one would think, was exhibited more 
than once in the course of his speech. He referred, for 
instance, to the Hartford Convention. Did he do this for 
authority, or for a topic of reproach? Apparently for 
both ; for he told us that he should find no fault with the 
mere fact of holding such a convention, and considering 
and discussing such questions as he supposes were then 
and there discussed ; but what rendered it obnoxious was 
the time it was holden, and the circumstances of the country 
chen existing. We were in a war, he said, and the country 
needed all our aid ; the hand of Government required to 
be strengthened, not weakened ; and patriotism should 
have postponed such proceedings to another day. The 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 21? 

thing itself, then, is a precedent; the time'and manner of 
it, only, subject of censure. 

Now, sir, I go much further, on this point, than the 
honorable member. Supposing, as the gentleman seems 
to, that the Hartford Convention assembled for any such 
purpose as breaking up the Union, because they thought 
unconstitutional laws had been passed, or to concert on 
that subject, or to calculate the value of the Union ; sup- 
posing this to be their purpose, or any part of it, then I 
say the meeting itself was disloyal, and obnoxious to cen- 
sure, whether held in time of peace, or time of war, or 
under whatever circumstances. The material matter is the 
object. Is dissolution the object ? If it be, external cir- 
cumstances may make it a more or less aggravated case, 
but cannot affect the principle. I do not hold, therefore, 
that the Hartford Convention was pardonable, even to the 
extent of the gentleman's admission, if its objects were 
really such as have been imputed to it. Sir, there never 
was a time, under any degree of excitement, in which the 
Hartford Convention, or any other convention, could main- 
tain itself one moment in New England, if assembled for 
any such purpose as the gentleman says would have been 
an allowable purpose. To hold conventions to decide 
questions of constitutional law ! — to try the binding valid- 
ity of statutes, by votes in a convention ! Sir, the Hart- 
ford Convention, I presume, would not desire that the 
honorable gentleman should be their defender or advocate, 
if he puts their case upon such untenable and extravagant 
grounds. 

Then, sir, the gentleman has no fault to find with these 
recently-promulgated South Carolina opinions. And, 
certainly, he need have none ; for his own sentiments, as 
now advanced, and advanced on reflection, as far as I have 
been able to ' comprehend them, go ' the full 'length of all 

19 .... \ 



218 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

these opinions. I propose, sir, to say something on these, 
and to consider how far they are just and constitutional. 
Before doing that, however, let me observe, that the 
eulogium pronounced on the character of the State of 
South Carolina, by the honorable gentleman, for her Revo- 
lutionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence. 
I shall not acknowledge that the honorable member goes 
before me in regard for whatever of distinguished talent 
or distinguished character South Carolina has produced. 
I claim part of the honor, I partake in the pride, of hei 
great names. I claim them for countrymen, one and all. 
The Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sump- 
ters, the Marions — Americans all — whose fame is no more 
to be hemmed in by State lines than their talents and 
patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within 
the same narrow limits. In their day and generation, 
they served and honored the country, and the whole 
country; and their renown is of the treasures of the whole 
country. Him whose honored name the gentleman himself 
bears — does he suppose me less capable of gratitude for 
his patriotism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his 
eyes had first opened upon the light in Massachusetts 
instead of South Qarolina ? Sir, does he suppose it is in 
his power to exhibit a Carolina name so bright as to pro- 
duce envy in my bosom ? No, sir, increased gratification 
and delight, rather. 

Sir, I thank God that if I am gifted with little of the 
spirit which is said to be able to raise mortals to the skies, 
I have yet none, as I trust, of that other spirit which would 
drag angels down. When I shall be found, sir, in my 
place here in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public 
merit, because it happened to spring up beyond the little 
limits of mv own State, or neighborhood ; wfren I refuse, 
for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due tc 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 219 

American talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion 
to liberty and the country ; or if I see an uncommon en- 
dowment of Heaven, if I see extraordinary capacity anc 1 
virtue, in any son of the South, and if, moved by local 
prejudice, or gangrened by State jealousy, I get up here 
to abate the tithe of a hair from his just character and 
just fame, — may my tongue cleave to the roof of my 
mouth ! Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections ; let 
me indulge in refreshing remembrance of the past ; let me 
remind you that in early times no States cherished greater 
harmony, both of principle and feeling, than Massachu- 
setts and South Carolina. Would to God that harmony 
might again return ! Shoulder to shoulder they went 
through the Revolution ; hand in hand they stood round 
the administration of Washington, and felt his own great 
arm lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, 
alienation and distrust, are the growth, unnatural to such 
soils, of false principles since sown. They are weeds, 
the seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. 

Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon 
Massachusetts — she needs none. There she is — behold 
lier, and judge for yourselves. There is her history — the 
world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. 
There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker 
Hill ; and there they will remain forever. The bones of 
her sons, fallen in the great struggle for Independence, 
now lie mingled with the soil of every State from New 
England to Georgia; and there they will lie forever. 
And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, and 
where its youth was first nurtured and sustained, there it 
still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its 
original spirit If discord and disunion shall wound -it ; 
if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear 
it; if folly and madness, if • uneasiness under salutary and 



220 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

necessary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that 
Union by which alone its existence is made sure, — it will 
stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its 
infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm, with 
whatever vigor it may still retain, over the friends who 
gather round it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, 
amidst the proudest v monuments of its own glory, and on 
the very spot of its origin. 

There yet remains to be performed, Mr. President, by 
far the most grave and important duty which I feel to be 
devolved on me by this occasion. It is to state, and to 
defend, what I conceive to be the true principles of the 
Constitution under which we are here assembled. I might 
well have desired that so weighty a task should have 
fallen into other and abler hands. I could have wished 
that it should have been executed bv those whose cha- 
racter and experience give weight and influence to their 
opinions, such^ as cannot possibly belong to mine. But, 
sir, I have met the occasion, not sought it ; and I shall 
proceed to state my own sentiments, without challenging 
for them any particular regard, with studied plainness and 
as much precision as possible. 

I understand the honorable gentleman from South Caro- 
lina to maintain that it is a right of the State legislatures 
to interfere, whenever, in their judgment, this Government 
transcends its constitutional limits, and to arrest the opera- 
tion of its laws. 

I understand him to maintain this right as a right ex- 
isting tinder the Constitution, not as a right to overthrow 
it, on the ground of extreme necessity, such as would 
justify violent revolution. 

I understand him to maintain an authority, on the part 
of the States, thus to interfere, for the purpose of correct- 
ing the . exercise of power by the General Government, of 



KEPLY TO MR. 11AYNE. 221 

checking it, and of compelling it to conform to their opi- 
nion of the extent of its power. 

I understand him to maintain that the ultimate power 
of judging of the constitutional extent of its own authority 
is not lodged exclusively in the General Government or 
any branch of it ; but that, on the contrary, the States 
may lawfully decide for themselves, and each State for 
itself, whether, in a given case, the act of the General 
Government transcends its power. 

I understand him to insist that, if the exigency of the 
case, in the opinion of any State Government, require it, 
such State Government may, by its own sovereign au- 
thority, annul an act of the General Government which it 
deems plainly and palpably unconstitutional. 

This is the sum of what I understand from him to be 
the South Carolina doctrine. I propose to consider it, 
and to compare it with the Constitution. Allow me to 
say, as a preliminary remark, that I call this the South 
Carolina doctrine, only because the gentleman himself has 
so denominated it. I do not feel at liberty to say that South 
Carolina, as a State, has ever advanced these sentiments. 
I hope she has not, and never may. That a great majority 
of her people are opposed to the tariff-laws is doubtless 
true. That a majority, somewhat less than that just 
mentioned, conscientiously believe these laws unconstitu- 
tional, may probably also be true. But that any majority 
holds to the right of direct State interference, at State 
discretion, the right of nullifying acts of Congress by acts 
of State legislation, is more than I know, and what I shall 
be slow to believe. 

That there are individuals, besides the honorable gen- 
tleman, who do maintain these opinions, is quite certain. I 
recollect the recent expression of a sentiment which cir- 
cumstances attending its utterance and publication justify 

19* 



222 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

us in supposing was not unpremeditated — "The sovereignty 
of the State : never to be controlled, construed, or decided 
on, but by her own feelings of honorable justice." 

[Mr. Hayne here rose, and said, that, for the purposo 
of being clearly understood, he would state that his pro- 
position was in the words of the Virginia resolution, as 
follows : 

" That this Assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily 
declare, that it views the powers of the Federal Govern^ 
ment, as resulting from the compact to which the States 
are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of 
the instrument constituting that compact, as no further 
valid than they are authorized by the grants enumerated 
in that compact ; and that, in case of a deliberate, palpable, 
and dangerous exercise of other powers not granted by the 
said compact, the States who are parties thereto have the 
right, and are in duty bound, to interpose for arresting the 
progress of the evil, and for maintaining, within their 
respective limits, the authorities, rights, and liberties per- 
taining to them."] 

Mr. Webster resumed : 

I am quite aware, Mr. President, of the existence of the 
resolution which the gentleman read, and has now repeated, 
and that he relies on it as his authority. I know the 
source, too, from which it is understood to have proceeded. 
I need not say, that I have much respect for the constitu- 
tional opinions of Mr. Madison : they would weigh greatly 
with me, always. But, before the authority of his opinion 
be vouched for the gentleman's proposition, it will be pro- 
per to consider what is the fair interpretation of that resolu- 
tion, to which Mr. Madison is understood to have given his 
sanction. As the gentleman construes it, it is an authority 
for him. Possibly he may not have adopted the right con- 
struction. That resolution declares, that in the case of the 



KEPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 223 

dangerous exercise of powers not granted by the General 
Government, the States way interpose to arrest the pro- 
gress of the evil. But how interpose ? and what does this 
declaration purport ? Does it mean no more than that 
there may be extreme cases in which the people, in any 
mode of assembling, may resist usurpation, and relieve 
themselves from a tyrannical government? No one will 
deny this. Such resistance is not only acknowledged t'o 
be just in America, but in England also. Blackstone 
admits as much, in the theory and practice, too, of the 
English Constitution. We, sir, who oppose the Carolina 
doctrine, do not deny that the people may, if they choose, 
throw off any government, when it becomes oppressive and 
intolerable, and erect a better in its stead. We all know 
that civil institutions are established for the public benefit, 
and that, when they cease to answer the ends of their ex- 
istence, they may be changed. 

But I do not understand the doctrine now contended for 
to be that which, for the sake of distinctness, we may call 
the right of revolution. I understand the gentleman to 
maintain, that without revolution, without civil commotion, 
without rebellion, a remedy for supposed abuse and trans- 
gression of the powers of the General Government lies in 
a direct appeal to the interference of the State Govern- 
ments. [Mr. Hayne here rose : He did not contend, he 
said, for the mere right of revolution, but for the right of 
constitutional resistance. What he maintained was, that, 
in case of a plain, palpable violation of the Constitution 
by the General Government, a State may interpose ; and 
that this interposition is constitutional.] Mr. Webster 
r.esumed : 

So, sir, I understood the gentleman, and am happy to 
find that I did not misunderstand him. What he contends 
for is, that it is constitutional to interrupt the administra- 



224 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

tion of the Constitution itself, in the hands of those who 
are chosen and sworn to administer it, by the direct inter- 
ference, in form of law, of the States, in virtue of their 
sovereign capacity. The inherent right in the people to 
reform their Government I do not deny : and they have 
another right, and that is, to resist unconstitutional laws, 
without overturning the Government. It is no doctrine of 
mine, that unconstitutional laws bind the people. The 
great question is, Whose prerogative is it to decide on the 
constitutionality or unconstitutionality of the laws? On 
that the main debate hinges. The proposition that, in case 
of a supposed violation of the Constitution by Congress, 
the States have a constitutional right to interfere, and 
annul the law of Congress, is the proposition of the gen- 
tleman. I do not admit it. If the gentleman had intended 
no more than to assert the right of revolution for justifiable 
cause, he would have said only what all agree to. But I 
cannot conceive that there can be a middle course between 
submission to the laws, when regularly pronounced con- 
stitutional, on the one hand, and open resistance, which is 
revolution or rebellion, on the other. I say the right of a 
State to annul a law of Congress cannot be maintained but 
on the ground of the unalienable right of man to resist 
oppression ; that is to say, upon the ground of revolution. 
I admit that there is an ultimate violent remedy, above the 
Constitution, and in defiance of the Constitution, which 
may be resorted to, when a revolution is to be justified. 
But I do not admit that, under the Constitution, and in 
conformity with it, there is any mode in which a State 
Government, as a member of the Union, can interfere and 
stop the progress of the General Government, by force of 
her own laws, under any circumstances whatever. 

This leads us to inquire into the origin of this Govern- 
ment, and the source of its power. Whose agent is it ? Is 



KfiPLY TO MR. HAYNK. 225 

+ it the creature of the State legislatures, or the creature of 
the people ? If the Government of the United States be 
the agent of the State Governments, then they may control 
it, provided they can agree in the manner of controlling it; 
if it is the agent of the people, then the people alone can 
control it, restrain it, modify or reform it. It is observable 
enough, that the doctrine for which the honorable gentle- 
man contends leads him to the necessity of maintaining, 
not only that this General Government is the creature of 
the States, but that it is the creature of each of the States 
severally ; so that each may assert the power, for itself, of 
determining whether it acts within the limits of its authority. 
It is the servant of four-and-twenty masters, of different 
wills and different purposes ; and yet bound to obey all. 
This absurdity (for it seems no less) arises from a miscon- 
ception as to the origin of this Government, and its true 
character. It is, sir, the people's Constitution, the peo- 
ple's Government; made for the people; made by the 
people ; and answerable to the people. The people of the 
United States have declared that this Constitution shall be 
the supreme law. We must either admit the proposition, 
or dispute their authority. The States are unquestionably 
sovereign, so far as their sovereignty is not affected by this 
supreme law. The State legislatures, as political bodies, 
however sovereign, are yet not sovereign over the people. 
So far as the people have given power to the General Go- 
vernment, so far the grant is unquestionably good, and the 
Government holds of the people, and not of the State 
Governments. We are all agents of the same supreme 
power, the people. The General Government and the 
State Governments derive their authority from the same 
source. Neither can, in relation to the other, be called 
primary ; though one is definite and restricted, and the 
other general and residuary. 



•J26 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

The national Government possesses those powers which I 
it can be shown the people have conferred on it, and no 
more. All the rest belongs to the State Governments, or 
to the people themselves. So far as the people have 
restrained State sovereignty by the expression of their 
will, in the Constitution of the United States, so far, it 
must be admitted, State sovereignty is effectually con- 
trolled. I do not contend that it is, or ought to be, con- 
trolled further. The sentiment to which I have referred 
propounds that State sovereignty is only to be controlled 
by its own "feeling of justice;" that is to say, it is not 
to be controlled at all ; for one who is to follow his feel- 
ings is under no legal control. Now, however men may 
think this ought to be, the fact is, that the people of the 
United States have chosen to impose control on State 
sovereignties. The Constitution has ordered the matter 
differently from what this opinion announces. To make 
war, for instance, is an exercise of sovereignty ; but the 
Constitution declares that no State shall make war. To 
coin money is another exercise of sovereign power ; but no 
State is at liberty to coin money. Again : the Constitu- 
tion says, that no sovereign State shall be so sovereign as 
to make a treaty. These prohibitions, it must be con- 
fessed, are a control on the State sovereignty of South 
Carolina, as well as of the other States, which does not 
arise " from her own feelings of honorable justice." Such 
an opinion, therefore, is in defiance of the plainest pro- 
visions of the Constitution. 

There are other proceedings of public bodies which have 
already been alluded to, and to which I refer again for the 
purpose of ascertaining more fully what is the Jength and 
breadth of that doctrine, denominated the Carolina doc- 
trine, which the honorable member has now stood up on 
thi3 floor to maintain. 



RKPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 22 






In one of them I find it resolved that " the tariff of 
1828, and every other tariff designed to promote one 
branch of industry at the expense of others, is contrary 
to the meaning and intention of the Federal compact; and 
as such, a dangerous, palpable, and deliberate usurpation 
of power, by a determined majority, wielding the General 
Government beyond the limits of its delegated powers, as 
calls upon the States which compose the suffering minority, 
in their sovereign capacity, to exercise the powers which, 
as sovereigns, necessarily devolve upon them when their 
compact is violated." 

Observe, sir, that this resolution holds the tariff of 1828, 
and every other tariff designed to promote one branch of 
industry at the expense of another, to be such a dangerous, 
palpable, and deliberate usurpation of power, as calls upon 
the States, in their sovereign capacity, to interfere by their 
own power. This denunciation, Mr. President, you will 
please to observe, includes our old tariff of 1816, as well 
as all others ; because that was established to promote the 
interest of the manufactures of cotton, to the manifest and 
admitted injury of the Calcutta cotton-trade. Observe, 
again, that all the qualifications are here rehearsed, and 
charged upon the tariff, which are necessary to bring the 
case within the gentleman's proposition. The tariff is a 
usurpation ; it is a dangerous usurpation ; it is a palpable 
usurpation ; it is a deliberate usurpation. It is such a 
usurpation as calls upon the States to exercise their right 
of interference. Here is a case, then, within the gentle- 
man's principles, and all his qualifications of his principles. 
It is a case for action. The Constitution is plainly, dan- 
gerously, palpably, and deliberately violated ; and the 
States must interpose their own authority to arrest the 
law. Let us suppose the State of South Carolina to ex- 
press this same opinion, by the voice of her legislature. 



•228 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

That would be very imposing ; but what then ? Is the 
voice of one State conclusive ? It so happens that, at the 
very moment when South Carolina resolves that the tariff- 
laws are unconstitutional, Pennsylvania and Kentucky 
resolve exactly the reverse. They hold those laws to be 
both highly proper and strictly constitutional. And now, 
sir, how does the honorable member propose to deal with 
this case ? How does he get out of this difficulty, upon 
any principle of his? His construction gets us into it; 
how does he propose to get us out ? 

In Carolina, the tariff is a palpable, deliberate usurpa- 
tion ; Carolina, therefore, may nullify it, and refuse to 
pay the duties. In Pennsylvania, it is both clearly con- 
stitutional and highly expedient ; and there the duties are 
to be paid. And yet we live under a Government of 
uniform laws, and under a Constitution, too, which con- 
tains an express provision, as it happens, that all duties 
shall be equal in all the States ! Does not this approach 

absurdity ? 

If there be no power to settle such questions, independent 
of either of the States, is not the whole Union a rope of 
sand ? Are we not thrown back again precisely upon the 
old Confederation? 

It is too plain to be argued. Four-and-twenty interpre- 
ters of constitutional law, each with a power to decide for 
itself, and none with authority to bind anybody else, and 
this constitutional law the only bond of their union ! What 
is such a state of things but a mere connection during 
pleasure, or, to use the phraseology of the times, during 
feeling ? And that feeling, too, not the feeling of the 
people who established the Constitution, but the feeling of 
the State Governments. 

In another of the South Carolina addresses, having pre- 
mised that the crisis requires " all the concentrated energy 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 229 

of passion," an attitude of open resistance to the laws o^ 
the Union is advised. Open resistance to the laws, then, 
is the constitutional remedy, the conservative power of the 
State, which the South Carolina doctrines teach for the 
redress of political evils, real or imaginary. And its 
authors further say that, appealing with confidence to the 
Constitution itself to justify their opinions, they cannot 
consent to try their accuracy by the courts of justice. In 
one sense, indeed, sir, this is assuming an attitude of open 
resistance in favor of liberty. But what sort of liberty ? 
The liberty of establishing their own opinions, in defiance 
of the opinions of all others; the liberty of judging and 
of deciding exclusively themselves, in a matter in which 
others have as much right to judge and decide as they; the 
liberty of placing their opinions above the judgment of all 
others, above the laws, and above the Constitution. This 
is their liberty, and this is the fair result of the proposition 
contended for by the honorable gentleman. Or it may be 
more properly said, it is identical with it, rather than a 
result from it. In the same publication we find the follow- 
ing : "Previously to our. Revolution, when the arm of 
oppression was stretched over New England, where did 
our Northern brethren meet with a braver sympathy than 
that which sprung from the bosom of Carolinians ? We 
had no extortion, no oppression, no collision with the Icing's 
ministers, no navigation interests springing up, in envious 
rivalry of England." 

This seems extraordinary language. South Carolina no 
collision with the king's ministers in 1775 ! no extortion ! 
no oppression! But, sir, it is also most significant language. 
Does any man doubt the purpose for which it was penned? 
Can any one fail to see that it was designed to raise in tho 
reader's mind the question, whether, at this time, — that is 
to say. in 1828, — South Carolina has any collision with 

20 



23l> SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the king's ministers, any oppression, or extortion, to fea* 
from England? whether, in short, England is not as 
naturally the friend of South Carolina as New England, 
with her navigation interests springing up in envious 
rivalry of England ? 

Is it not strange, sir, that an intelligent man in South 
Carolina, in 1828, should thus lahor to prove, that, in 
1775, there was no hostility, no cause of war, between 
South Carolina and England ? that she had no occasion, 
in reference to her own interest, or from a regard to her 
own welfare, to take up arms in the Revolutionary con- 
test? Can any one account for the expression of such 
strange sentiments, and their circulation through the 
State, otherwise than by supposing the object to be, what 
I have already intimated, to raise the question, if they 
had no "collision" (mark the expression) with the ministers 
of King George the Third, in 1775, what collision have 
they, in 1828, with the ministers of King George the 
Fourth ? What is there now, in the existing state of 
things, to separate Carolina from Old, more, or rather 
less, than from New, England ? 

Resolutions, sir, have been recently passed by the 
Legislature of South Carolina. I need not refer to them : 
they go no further than the honorable gentleman himself 
has gone — and I hope not so far. I content myself, there- 
fore, with debating the matter with him. 

And now, sir, what I have first to say on the subject is, 
that at no time, and under no circumstances, has New 
England, or any State in New England, or any respectable 
body of persons in New England, or any public man of 
standing in New England, put forth such a doctrine as this 
Carolina doctrine. 

The gentleman has found no case — he can find none — 
to support his own opinions by New England authority. 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 231 

New England has studied the Constitution in other schools, 
and under other teachers. She looks upon it with 
other regards, and deems more highly and reverently 
both of its just authority and its utility and excellence. 
The history of her legislative proceedings may be traced 
— the ephemeral effusions of temporary bodies, called 
together by the excitement of the occasion, may be hunted 
up — they have been hunted up. The opinions and votes 
of her public men, in and out of Congress, may be ex- 
plored — it will all ,be in vain. The Carolina doctrine can 
derive from her neither countenance nor support. She 
rejects it now ; she always did reject it ; and till she loses 
her senses, she always will reject it. The honorable 
member has referred to expressions on the subject of the 
embargo law, made in this place by an honorable and 
venerable gentleman (Mr. Hillhouse) now favoring us with 
his presence. He quotes that distinguished Senator as 
saying, that in his judgment the embargo law was uncon- 
stitutional, and that, therefore, in his opinion, the people 
were not bound to obey it. 

That, sir, is perfectly constitutional language. An 
unconstitutional law is not binding ; but then it does not 
rest with a resolution or a law of a State legislature to 
decide whether an act of Congress be or be not constitu- 
tional. An unconstitutional act of Congress would not 
bind the people of this District, although they have no 
legislature to interfere in their behalf; and, on the other 
hand, a constitutional law of Congress does bind the 
citizens of every State, although all their legislatures 
should undertake to annul it, by act or resolution. The 
venerable Connecticut Senator is a constitutional lawyer, 
of sound principles and enlarged knowledge ; a states- 
man practised and experienced, bred in the company of 
Washington, and holding just views upon the nature of ouj 



232 SPEECHES OF DAXIEL WEBSTER. 

Governments. He believed the embargo unconstitutional, 
and so did others ; but what then ? Who did he suppose 
was to decide that question? The State legislatures? 
Certainly not. No such sentiment ever escaped his lips. 
Let us follow up, sir, this New England opposition to the 
embargo laws ; let us trace it, till we discern the principle 
which controlled and governed New England throughout 
the whole course of that opposition. We shall then see 
what similarity there is between the New England school 
of constitutional opinions and this modern Carolina school. 
The gentleman, I think, read a petition from some single 
individual, addressed to the Legislature of Massachusetts, 
asserting the Carolina doctrine — that is, the right of State 
interference to arrest the laws of the Union. The fate 
of that petition shows the sentiment of the Legislature. 
It met no favor. The opinions of Massachusetts were 
otherwise. They had been expressed in 1798, in answer 
to the resolutions of Virginia, and she did not depart from 
them, nor bend them to the times. Misgoverned, wronged, 
oppressed, as she felt herself to be, she still held fast her 
integrity to the Union. The gentleman may find in her 
proceedings much evidence of dissatisfaction with the 
measures of Government, and great and deep dislike to 
the embargo ; all this makes the case so much the stronger 
for her ; for, notwithstanding all this dissatisfaction and 
dislike, she claimed no right still to sever asunder the 
bonds of the Union. There was heat and there was anger 
in her political feeling. Be it so. Her heat or her anger 
did not, nevertheless, betray her into infidelity to the 
Government. The gentleman labors to prove that she 
disliked the embargo as much as South Carolina dislikes 
the tariff, and expressed her dislike as strongly. Be it so ; 
but did she propose the Carolina remedy f Did she 
threaten to interfere, by State authority, to annul the 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 23S 

latvs of the Union ? That is the question for the gentle- 
man's consideration. 

No doubt, sir, a great majority of the people of New 
England conscientiously believed the embargo law of 
1807 unconstitutional — as conscientiously, certainly, as the 
people of South Carolina hold that opinion of the tariff. 
They reasoned thus : Congress has power to regulate com- 
merce ; but here is a law, they said, stopping all com- 
merce, and stopping it indefinitely. The law is perpetual ; 
that is, it is not limited in point of time, and must of course 
continue till it shall be repealed by some other law. It is 
as perpetual, therefore, as the law against treason or mur- 
der. Now, is this regulating commerce, or destroying it ? 
Is it guiding, controlling, giving the rule to commerce, as 
a subsisting thing, or is it putting an end to it altogether ? 
Nothing is more certain than that a majority in New Eng- 
land deemed this law a violation of the Constitution. The 
very case required by the gentleman to justify State 
interference had then arisen. Massachusetts believed this 
law to be " a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise 
of a power not granted by the Constitution." Deliberate 
it was, for it was long continued ; palpable she thought it, 
as no words in the Constitution gave the power, and only 
a construction, in her opinion most violent, raised it ; 
dangerous it was, since it threatened utter ruin to her 
most important interests. Here, then, was a Carolina 
case. How did Massachusetts deal with it ? It was, as 
she thought, a plain, manifest, palpable violation of the 
Constitution ; and it brought ruin to her doors. Thou- 
sands of families, and hundreds of thousands of indi- 
viduals, were beggared by it. While she saw and felt all 
this, she saw and felt, also, that as a measure of national 
policy, it was perfectly futile ; and that the country was 
no way benefited by that which caused so much indi- 

20* 



234 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

vidual distress ; and that it was efficient only for the pro- 
duction of evil, and all that evil inflicted on ourselves. In 
such a case, under such circumstances, how did Massa- 
chusetts demean herself? Sir, she remonstrated, she 
memorialized, she addressed herself to the General Govern- 
ment, not exactly " with the concentrated energy of pas 
sion," but with her strong sense, and the energy of sobei 
conviction. But she did not interpose the arm of hei 
power to arrest the law, and break the embargo. Far 
from it. Her principles bound her to two things ; and 
she followed her principles, lead where they might. First, 
to submit to every constitutional law of Congress : and, 
secondly, if the constitutional validity of the law be 
doubted, to refer that question to the decision of the pro- 
per tribunals. The first principle is vain and ineffectual 
without the second. A majority of us in New England 
believed the embargo law unconstitutional ; but the great 
question was, and always will be, in such cases, Who is to 
decide this ? Who is to judge between the people and the 
Government ? And, sir, it is quite plain, that the Con- 
stitution of the United States confers on the Government 
itself, to be exercised by its appropriate department, this 
power of deciding, ultimately and conclusively, upon the 
just extent of its own authority. If this had not been 
done, we should not have advanced a single step beyond 
the old Confederation. 

Being fully of opinion that the embargo law was uncon- 
stitutional, the people of New England were yet equally 
clear in the opinion — it was a matter they did not doubt 
U p 011 _tl ia t the question, after all, must be decided by the 
judicial tribunals of the United States. Before those 
tribunals, therefore, they brought the question. Under 
the provisions of the law, they had given bonds, to millions 
in amount, and which were alleged to be forfeited. They 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 235 



O 



Buffered the bonds to be sued, and thus raised the question. 
In the old-fashioned way of settling disputes, they went to 
law. The case came to hearing and solemn argument ; 
and he who espoused their cause and stood up for them 
against the validity of the act, was none other than that 
great man, of whom the gentleman has made honorable 
mention, Samuel Dexter. He was then, sir, in the ful- 
ness of his knowledge and the maturity of his strength. 
He had retired from long and distinguished public service 
here, to the renewed pursuit of professional duties ; carrying 
with him all that enlargement and expansion, all the new 
strength and force, which an acquaintance with the more 
general subjects discussed in the national councils is capable 
of adding to professional attainment, in a mind of true 
greatness and comprehension. He was a lawyer, and he 
was also a statesman. He had studied the Constitution, 
when he filled public station, that he might defend it ; he 
had examined its principles, that he might maintain them. 
More than all men, or at least as much as any man, he 
was attached to the General Government, and to the union 
of the States. His feelings and opinions all ran in that 
direction. A question of constitutional law, too, was, of 
all subjects, that one which was best suited to his talents 
and learning. Aloof from technicality, and unfettered by 
artificial rule, such a question gave opportunity for that 
deep and clear analysis, that mighty grasp of principle, 
which so much distinguished his higher efforts. His very 
statement was argument ; his inference seemed demonstra- 
tion. The earnestness of his own conviction wrought con- 
viction in others. One was convinced, and believed, and 
assented, because it was gratifying, delightful, to think, 
and feel, and believe, in unison with an intellect of such 
evident superiority. 

Mr. Dexter, sir, such as I have described him, argued 



286 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the New England cause. He put into his effort his whole 
heart, as well as all the powers of his understanding ; for 
he had avowed, in the most public manner, his entire con- 
currence with his neighbors, on the point in dispute. He 
argued the cause ; it was lost, and New England submitted. 
The established tribunals pronounced the law constitutional, 
and New England acquiesced. Now, sir, is not this the 
exact opposite of the doctrine of the gentleman from South 
Carolina ? According to him, instead of referring to the 
judicial tribunals, we should have broken up the embargo, 
by laws of our own ; we should have repealed it, quoad 
New England ; for we had a strong, palpable, and oppress- 
ive case. Sir, we believed the embargo unconstitutional ; 
but still, that was matter of opinion, and who was to decide 
it ? We thought it a clear case ; but, nevertheless, we did 
not take the laws into our hands, because we did not ivish 
to bring about a revolution, nor to break up the Union; 
for I maintain, that, between submission to the decision of 
the constituted tribunals, and revolution, or disunion, there 
is no middle ground — there is no ambiguous condition, half 
allegiance and half rebellion. There is no treason made cosy. 
And, sir, how futile, how very futile, it is, to admit the right 
of State interference, and then to attempt to save it from 
the character of unlawful resistance, by adding terms of 
qualification to the causes and occasions, leaving all the 
qualifications, like the case itself, in the discretion of the 
State Governments ! It must be a clear case, it is said ; a 
deliberate case ;. a palpable case ; a dangerous case. But, 
then, the State is still left at liberty to decide for herself 
what is clear, what is deliberate, what is palpable, what is 
dangerous. 

Do adjectives and epithets avail any thing? Sir, the 
human mind is so constituted, that the merits of both sides 
of a controversy appear very clear, and very palpable, to 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 237 

those who respectively espouse them, and both sides usually 
grow clearer, as the controversy advances. South Carolina 
sees unconstitutionality in the tariff — she sees oppression 
there, also, and she sees danger. Pennsylvania, with a 
vision not less sharp, looks at the same tariff, and sees no 
such thing in it — she sees it all constitutional, all useful, all 
safe. The faith of South Carolina is strengthened by op- 
position, and she now not only sees, but resolves, that the 
tariff is palpably unconstitutional, oppressive, and dan- 
gerous : but Pennsylvania, not to be behind her neighbors, 
and equally willing to strengthen her own faith by a con- 
fident asseveration, resolves also, and gives to every warm 
affirmative of South Carolina, a plain, downright Penn- 
sylvania negative. South Carolina, to show the strength 
and unity of her opinions, brings her assembly to a unani- 
mity, within seven votes ; Pennsylvania, not to be outdone 
in this respect more than others, reduces her dissentient 
fraction to five votes. Now, sir, again I ask the gentle- 
man, what is to be done ? Are these States both right ? 
Is he bound to consider them both right ? If not, which 
is in the wrong ? or, rather, which has the best right t< 
decide ? 

And if he, and if I, are not to know what the Con- 
stitution means, and what it is, till those two State legis- 
latures, and the twenty-two others, shall agree in its 
construction, what have we sworn to, when we have sworn 
to maintain it ? I was forcibly struck, sir, with one re- 
flection, as the gentleman went on with his speech. He 
quoted Mr. Madison's resolutions to prove that a State 
may interfere, in a case of deliberate, palpable, and 
dangerous exercise of a power not granted. The honor- 
able member supposes the tariff-law to be such an exercise 
of power, and that, consequently, a case has arisen in 
which the S*tate may, if it see fit, interfere by its own law. 



238 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Now, it so happens, nevertheless, that Mr. Madison him- 
self deems this same tariff-law quite constitutional. In- 
stead of a clear and palpable violation, it is, in his judg- 
ment, no violation at all. So that, while they use his 
authority for a hypothetical case, they reject it in the very 
case before them. All this, sir, shows the inherent futility 
— I had almost used a stronger word — of conceding this 
power of interference to the States, and then attempting 
to secure it from abuse by imposing qualifications of which 
the States themselves are to judge. One of two things is 
true : either the laws of the Union are beyond the control 
of the States, or else we have no Constitution of General 
Government, and are thrust back again to the days of the 
Confederacy. 

Let me here say, sir, that if the gentleman's doctrine 
had been received and acted upon in New England, in the 
times of the embargo and non-intercourse, we should pro- 
bably not now have been here. The Government would 
very likely have gone to pieces and crumbled into dust. 
No stronger case can ever arise than existed under those 
•aws; no States can ever entertain a clearer conviction 
than the New England States then entertained ; and if 
they had been under the influence of that heresy of opi- 
nion, as I must call it, which the honorable member 
espouses, this Union would, in all probability, have been 
scattered to the four winds. I ask the gentleman, there- 
fore, to apply his principles to that case ; I ask him to 
come forth and declare whether, in his opinion, the New 
England States would have been justified in interfering to 
break up the embargo system, under the conscientious 
opinions which they held upon it. Had they a right to 
annul that law ? Does he admit, or deny ? If that which 
is thought palpably unconstitutional in South Carolina 
iustifies that State in arresting the progress of the law, 



REPLY TO MR. tfAYNE. ( 2S9 

tell me whether that which was thought palpably un- 
constitutional also in Massachusetts would have justified 
her in doing the same thing. Sir, I deny the whole doc- 
trine. It has not a foot of ground in the Constitution to 
stand on. No public man of reputation ever advanced it 
in Massachusetts, in the warmest times, or could maintain 
himself upon it there at any time. 

I wish now, sir, to make a remark upon the Virginia 
resolutions of 1798. I cannot undertake to say how these 
resolutions were understood by those who passed them. 
Their language is not a little indefinite. In the case of 
the exercise, by Congress, of a dangerous power, not 
granted to them, the resolutions assert the right, on the 
part of the State, to interfere, and arrest the progress of 
the evil. This is susceptible of more than one interpreta- 
tion. It may mean no more than that the States may 
interfere by complaint and remonstrance, or by proposing 
to the people an alteration of the Federal Constitution. 
This would all be quite unobjectionable ; or it may be 
that no more is meant than to assert the general right of 
revolution, as against all Governments, in cases of in- 
tolerable oppression. This no one doubts ; and this, in 
my opinion, is all that he who framed these resolutions 
could have meant by it ; for I shall not readily believe 
that he was ever of opinion that a State, under the Con- 
stitution, and in conformity with it, couTd, upon the ground 
of her own opinion of its unconstitutionality, however clear 
and palpable she might think the case, annul a law of Con- 
gress, so far as it should operate on herself, by her own 
legislative power. 

I must now beg to ask, sir, Whence is this supposed 
right of the States derived ? Where do they get the 
power to interfere with the laws of the Union ? Sir, the 
opinion which the honorable gentleman maintains is a 



240 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

notion founded in a total misapprehension, in my judgment^ 
of the origin of this Government, and of the foundation on 
which it stands. I hold it to be a popular Government, 
erected by the people, those who administer it responsible 
to the people, and itself capable of being amended and 
modified, just as the people may choose it should be. It 
is as popular, just as truly emanating from the people, as 
the State Governments. It is created for one purpose; 
the State Governments for another. It has its own 
powers ; they have theirs. There is no more authority 
with them to arrest the operation of a law of Congress, 
than with Congress to arrest the operation of their laws. 
We are here to administer a Constitution emanating from 
the people, and trusted by them to our administration. It 
is not the creature of the State Governments. It is of no 
moment to the argument that certain acts of the State 
legislatures are necessary to fill our seats in this body. 
That is not one of their original State powers, a part of 
the sovereignty of the State. It is a duty which the 
people, by the Constitution itself, have imposed on the 
State legislatures, and which they might have left to be 
performed elsewhere, if they had seen fit. So they have 
left the choice of President with electors ; but all this does 
not affect the proposition that this whole Government — 
President, Senate, and House of Representatives — is a 
popular Government. It leaves it still all its pormW rha- 
racter. The Governor of a State (in some of the States) 
rs chosen not directly by the people, but by those who are 
chosen by the people for the purpose of performing, among 
other duties, that of electing a Governor. Is the Govern- 
ment of the State on that account not a popular Govern- 
ment ? This Government, sir, is the -independent offspring 
of the popular will. It is not the creature of State legis- 
latures ; nay, more, if the whole truth must be told, the 



REPLY TO MR. IIAYNE. 241 

people brought it into existence, established it, and have 
hitherto supported it, for the very purpose, amongst others, 
of imposing certain salutary restraints on State sovereign- 
ties. The States cannot now make war ; they cannot con- 
tract alliances ; they cannot make, each for itself, separate 
regulations of commerce ; they cannot lay imposts ; they 
cannot coin money. If this Constitution, sir, be the 
creature of State legislatures, it must be admitted that it 
has obtained a strange control over the volitions of its 
creators. 

The people then, sir, erected this Government. They 
gave it a Constitution, and in that Constitution they have 
enumerated the powers which they bestow on it. They 
have made it a limited Government. They have defined 
its authority. They have restrained it to the exercise of 
such powers as are granted ; and all others, they declare, 
are reserved to the States or the people. But, sir, they 
have not stopped here. If they had, they would have 
accomplished but half their work. No definition can be 
so clear as to avoid possibility of doubt ; no limitation so 
precise as to exclude all uncertainty. Who, then, shall 
construe this grant of the people ? Who shall interpret 
their will, where it may be supposed they have left it 
doubtful ? With whom do they leave this ultimate right 
of deciding on the powers of the Government ? Sir, they 
have settled all this in the fullest manner. They have 
left it with the Government itself, in its appropriate 
branches. Sir, the very chief end, the main design for 
which the whole Constitution was framed and adopted, was 
to establish a Government that should not be obliged to 
act through State agency, or depend on State opinion and 
discretion. The people had had quite enough of that 
kmd of Government under the Confederacy. Under that 
system, the legal action — the application of law to indi 

21 



2-12 SPEECHES OE DANIEL WEBSTER. 

viduals — belonged exclusively to the States. Congress 
could only recommend — their acts were not of binding 
force till the States had adopted and sanctioned them. 
Are we in that condition still ? Are we yet at the mercy 
of State discretion and State construction ? Sir, if we 
are, then vain Tvill be our attempt to maintain the Con 
stitution under which we sit. 

But, sir, the people have wisely provided, in the Con- 
stitution itself, a proper, suitable mode and tribunal for 
settling questions of constitutional law. There are, in the 
Constitution, grants of powers to Congress, and restric- 
tions on those powers. There are also prohibitions on the 
States. Some authority must therefore necessarily exist, 
having the ultimate jurisdiction to fix and ascertain the 
interpretation of these grants, restrictions, and prohibi- 
tions. The Constitution has itself pointed out, ordained, 
and established that authority. How has it accomplished 
this great and essential end? By declaring, sir, that "the 
Constitution, and the laws of the United States, made in 
pursuance thereof, shall be the supreme law of the land, 
any thing in the Constitution or laws of any State to the 
contrary notwithstanding." 

This, sir, was the first great step. By this, the supre- 
macy of the Constitution and laws of the United States is 
declared. The people so will it. No State law is to be 
valid which comes in conflict with the Constitution or any 
law of the United States. But who shall decide this ques- 
tion of interference ? To whom lies the last appeal ? This, 
sir, the Constitution itself decides also, by declaring "that 
the judicial power shall extend to all cases arising under 
the Constitution and laws of the United States." These 
two provisions, sir, cover the whole ground. They are, in 
truth, the kevstone of the arch. With these it is a Con- 
stitution ; without them it is a Confederacy. In pursuance 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 243 

of these clear and express provisions, Congress established, 
at its verv first session, in the judicial act, a mode for carry- 
ing then, into full effect, and for bringing all questions 
of constitutional power to the final decision of the Supreme 
Court. It then, sir, became a government. It then had 
the means of self-protection ; and but for this, it would, in 
all probability, have been now among things which are 
passed. Having constituted the Government, and declared 
its powers, the people have further said that, since some- 
body must decide on the extent of these powers, the Govern- 
ment shall itself decide — subject always, like other popular 
governments, to its responsibility to the people. And now, 
sir, I repeat, how is it that a State legislature acquires 
any right to interfere? Who, or what, gives them the 
right to say to the people, " We, who are your agents and 
servants for one purpose, will undertake to decide, that 
your other agents and servants, appointed by you for 
another purpose, have transcended the authority you gave 
them" ? The reply would be, I think, not impertinent, 
" Who made you a judge over another's servants ? To 
their own masters they stand or fall." 

Sir, I deny this power of State legislatures altogether. 
It cannot stand the test of examination. Gentlemen may 
say, that, in an extreme case, a State Government might 
protect the people from intolerable oppression. Sir, in 
such a case the people might protect themselves, without 
the aid of the State Governments. Such a case warrants 
revolution. It must make, when it comes, a law for itself. 
A nullifying act of a State legislature cannot alter the 
case, nor make resistance any more lawful. In maintain- 
ing these sentiments, sir, I am but asserting the rights of 
the people. I state what they have declared, and insist on 
'• **r right to declare it. They have chosen to repose this 



244 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

power in the General Government, and I think it my duty 
to support it, like other constitutional powers. 

For myself, sir, I doubt the jurisdiction of South Caro- 
lina, or any other State, to prescribe my constitutional 
duty, or to settle, between me and the people, the validity 
of laws of Congress for which I have voted. I decline her 
umpirage. I have not sworn to support the Constitution 
according to her construction of its clauses. I have not 
stipulated, by my oath of office or otherwise, to come under 
any responsibility, except to the people and those whom 
they have appointed to pass upon the question, whether 
the laws, supported by my votes, conform to the Constitu- 
tion of the country. And, sir, if we look to the general 
nature of the case, could any thing have been more pre- 
posterous than to have made a government for the whole 
Union, and yet left its powers subject, not to one inter- 
pretation, but to thirteen or twenty-four interpretations ? 
Instead of one tribunal, established by all, responsible to 
all, with power to decide for all, shall constitutional ques- 
tions be left to four-and-twenty popular bodies, each at 
liberty to decide for itself, and none bound to respect the 
decisions of others, and each at liberty, too, to give a new 
construction, on every new election ot its own members ? 
Would any thing, with such a principle in it, or rather 
with such a destitution of all principle, be fit to be called 
a government ? No, sir. It should not be denominated 
a Constitution. It should be called, rather, a collection 
of topics for everlasting controversy ; heads of debate for 
a disputatious people. It would not be a government. It 
would not be adequate to any practical good, nor fit for any 
country to live under. To avoid all possibility of being 
misunderstood, allow me to repeat again, in the fullest 
manner, that I claim no powers for the Government by 
forced or unfair construction. I admit that it is a govern- 



HEPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 245 

ment of strictly limited powers ; of enumerated, specified, 
and particularized powers; and that whatsoever is not 
granted is withheld. But, notwithstanding all this, and 
however the grant of powers may be expressed, its limits 
and extent may yet, in some cases, admit of doubt ; and 
the General Government would be good for nothing, it 
would be incapable of long existence, if some mode had 
not been provided in which those doubts, as they should 
arise, might be peaceably, but authoritatively, solved. 

And now, Mr. President, let me run the honorable gen- 
tleman's doctrine a little into its practical application. Let 
us look at his probable modus operandi. If a thing can 
be done, an ingenious man can tell how it is to be done. 
Now, I wish to be informed how this State interference is 
to be put in practice. We will take the existing case of 
the tariff-law. South Carolina is said to have made up her 
opinion upon it. If we do not repeal it, (as we probably 
shall not,) she will then apply to the case the remedy of 
her doctrine. She will, we must suppose, pass a law of 
her Legislature, declaring the several acts of Congress, 
usually called the tariff-laws, null and void, so far as they 
respect South Carolina, or the citizens thereof. So far, 
all is a paper transaction, and easy enough. But the col- 
lector at Charleston is collecting the duties imposed by 
these tariff-laws — he, therefore, must be stopped. The 
collector will seize the goods if the tariff-duties are not 
paid. The State authorities will undertake their rescue : 
the marshal, with his posse, will come to the collector's 
aid ; and here the contest begins. The militia of the State 
will be called out to sustain the nullifying act. They will 
march, sir, under a very gallant leader ; for I believe the 
honorable member himself commands the militia of that 
part of the State. He will raise the nullifying act on 
his standard, and spread it out as his banner. It will have 

21* 



246 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

a preamble, bearing that the tariff-laws are palpable, deli- 
berate, and dangerous violations of the Constitution. He 
will proceed, with his banner flying, to the custom-house in 
Charleston, — 

" all the while 
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds." 

Arrived at the custom-house, he will tell the collector that 
he must collect no more duties under any of the tariff- 
laws. This he will be somewhat puzzled to say, by-the- 
way, with a grave countenance, considering what hand 
South Carolina herself had in that of 1816. But, sir, the 
collector would, probably, not desist at his bidding. Here 
would ensue a pause ; for they say that a certain stillness 
precedes the tempest. Before this military array should 
fall on the custom-house, collector, clerks, and all, it is 
very probable some of those composing it would request 
of their gallant commander-in-chief to be informed a little 
upon the point of law ; for they have doubtless a just 
respect for his opinions as a lawyer, as well as for his 
bravery as a soldier. They know he has read Blackstone 
and the Constitution, as well as Turenne and Vauban. 
They would ask him, therefore, something concerning their 
rights in this matter. They would inquire whether it was 
not somewhat dangerous to resist a law of the United 
States. What would be the nature of their offence, they 
would wish to learn, if they, by military force and array, 
resisted the execution in Carolina of a law of the United 
States, and it should turn out, after all, that the law was 
constitutional? He would answer, of course, treason. No 
lawyer could give any other answer. John Fries, he would 
tell them, had learned that some years ago. How, then, 
they would ask, do you propose to defend us ? We are 
not afraid of bullets, but treason has a way of taking people 
off that we do not much relish. How do you propose to 



REPLY TO MR. 1IAYNE. 247 

defend us? "Look at my floating banner," lie would 
reply: "see there the nullifying law /" Is it your opi- 
nion, gallant commander, they would then say, that if we 
should be indicted for treason, that same floating banner 
of yours would make a good plea in bar ? " South Caro- 
lina is a sovereign State," he would reply. That is true; 
but would the judge admit our plea? "These tariff-laws," 
he would repeat, " are unconstitutional, palpably, delibe- 
rately, dangerously." That all may be so; but if the 
tribunals should not happen to be of that opinion, shall we 
swing for it ? We are ready to die for our country, but it 
is rather an awkward business, this dying without touching 
the ground. After all, this is a sort of hemp-tax, worse 
than any part of the tariff. 

Mr. President, the honorable gentleman would be in a 
dilemma like that of another great general. He would 
have a knot before him which he could not untie. He must 
cut it with his sword. He must say to his followers, Defend 
yourselves with your bayonets ; and this is war — civil war. 

Direct collision, therefore, between force and force, is 
the unavoidable result of that remedy for the revision of 
unconstitutional laws which the gentleman contends for. 
It must happen in the very first case to which it is applied. 
Is not this the plain result ? To resist, by force, the execu- 
tion of a law, generally, is treason. Can the courts of the 
United States take notice of the indulgence of a State to 
commit treason? The common saying, that a State cannot 
commit treason herself, is nothing to the purpose. Can it 
authorize others to do it? If John Fries had produced an 
act of Pennsylvania, annulling the law of Congress, would 
i-t have helped his case ? Talk about it as we will, these 
doctrines go the length of revolution. They are incom- 
patible with any peaceable administration of the Govern- 
ment. They lead directly to disunion and civil commotion; 



248 speeches of daniel webster. 

and therefore it is, that at the commencement, when they 
are first found to be maintained by respectable men, and in 
a tangible form, that I enter my public protest against 
them all. 

The honorable gentleman argues, that if this Govern- 
ment be the sole judge of the extent of its own powers, 
whether that right of judging be in Congress or the Supreme 
Court, it equally subverts State sovereignty. This the 
gentleman sees, or thinks he sees, although he cannot per- 
ceive how the right of judging, in this matter, if left to the 
exercise of State legislatures, has any tendency to subvert 
the Government of the Union. The gentleman's opinion 
may be that the right ought not to have been lodged with 
the General Government ; he may like better such a Con- 
stitution as we should have under the right of State inter- 
ference ; but I ask him to meet me on the plain matter of 
f ac t — x ask him to meet me on the Constitution itself — I 
ask him if the power is not found there — clearly and visibly 
found there. 

But, sir, what is this danger, and what the grounds of 
it? Let it be remembered, that the Constitution of the 
United States is not unalterable. It is to continue in its 
present form no longer than the people who established it 
shall choose to continue it. If they shall become convinced 
that they have made an injudicious or inexpedient partition 
and distribution of power between the State Governments 
and the General Government, they can alter that distribu- 
tion at will. 

If any thing be found in the national Constitution, 
either by original provision or subsequent interpretation, 
which ought not to be in it, the people know how to get rid 
of it. If any construction be established, unacceptable to 
them, so as to become, practically, a part of the Constitu- 
tion, they will amend it at their own sovereign pleasure* 



REPLY TO MR, HAYNE. 249 

But while the people choose to maintain it as it is, while 
they are satisfied with it, and refuse to change it, who has 
given, or who can give, to the State legislatures a right to 
alter it, either by interference, construction, or otherwise ? 
Gentlemen do not seem to recollect that the people have any 
power to do any thing for themselves ; they imagine there 
is no safety for them any longer than they are under the 
close guardianship of the State legislatures. Sir, the 
people have not trusted their safety, in regard to the gene- 
ral Constitution, to these hands. They have required other 
security, and taken other bonds. They have chosen to 
trust themselves, first, to the plain words of the instrument, 
and to such construction as the Government itself, in 
doubtful cases, should put on its own powers, under their 
oaths of office, and subject to their responsibility to them ; 
just as the people of a State trust their own State Govern- 
ment with a similar power. Secondly, they have reposed 
their trust in the efficacy of frequent elections, and in their 
own power to remove their own servants and agents when- 
ever they see cause. Thirdly, they have reposed trust in 
the judicial power, which, in order that it might be trust- 
worthy, they have made as respectable, as disinterested, 
and as independent as practicable. Fourthly, they have 
seen fit to rely, in case of necessity, or high expediency, 
on their known and admitted power to alter or amend the 
Constitution, peaceably and quietly, whenever experience 
shall point out defects or imperfections. And finally, the 
people of the United States have at no time, in no way, 
directly or indirectly, authorized any State legislature to 
construe or interpret their instrument of government ; 
much less to interfere, by their own power, to arrest its 
course and operation. 

If, sir, the people, in these respects, had done otherwise 
than they have done, their Constitution could neither have 



260 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

been preserved, nor would it have been worth preserving. 
And if its plain provision shall now be disregarded, and 
these new doctrines interpolated in it, it will become as 
feeble and helpless a being as enemies, whether early or 
more recent, could possibly desire. It will exist in every 
State, but as a poor dependent on State permission. It 
must borrow leave to be, and will be, no longer than State 
pleasure, or State discretion, sees fit to grant the indul- 
gence and to prolong its poor existence. 

But, sir, although there are fears, there are hopes also. 
The people have preserved this, their own chosen Constitu- 
tion, for forty years, and have seen their happiness, pros- 
perity, and renown grow with its growth and strengthen 
with its strength. They are now, generally, strongly at- 
tached to it. Overthrown by direct assault it cannot be ; 
evaded, undermined, nullified, it will not be, if we, and 
those who shall succeed us here, as agents and representa- 
tives of the people, shall conscientiously and vigilantly 
discharge the two great branches of our public trust — 
faithfully to preserve and wisely to administer it. 

Mr. President, I have thus stated the reasons of my 
dissent to the doctrines which have been advanced and 
maintained. I am conscious of having detained you, and 
the Senate, much too long. I was drawn into the debate, 
with no previous deliberation such as is suited to the dis- 
cussion of so grave and important a subject. But it is a 
subject of which my heart is full, and I have not been 
willing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous senti- 
ments. 

I cannot, even now, persuade myself to relinquish it, 
without expressing, once more, my deep conviction, that 
since it respects nothing less than the Union of the States, 
it is of most vital and essential importance to the public 
happiness. I profess, sir, in my career hitherto, to have 



REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 25J 

kept steadily in view the prosperity and honor of the 
whole country, and the preservation of our Federal Union. 
It is to that Union we owe our safety at home, and our 
consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that Union 
that we are chiefly indebted for whatever makes us most 
proud of our country. That Union we reached only by 
the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of ad 
versity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered 
finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under 
its benign influences, these great interests immediately 
awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness 
of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh 
proofs of its utility and its blessings ; and although our 
territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our 
population spread farther and farther, they have not out 
run its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a 
copious fountain of national, social, personal happiness. 
I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, 
to see what might lie hidden in the dark recesses behind. 
I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving 
liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be 
broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang 
over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my 
short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below ; 
nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the affairs 
of this Government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent 
on considering, not how the Union should be best pre- 
served, but how tolerable might be the condition of the 
people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While 
the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying pros- 
pects spread out before us, for us and our children. Be- 
yond that I seek not to penetrate the ve : l. God grant 
that, in my day at least, that curtain may not rise. God 
grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies 



252 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the 
last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on 
the broken and dishonored fragments of a once-glorious 
Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on 
a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in 
fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, 
rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now 
known and honored throughout the earth, still full high 
advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original 
lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star 
obscured — bearing for its motto no such miserable inter- 
rogatory as, What is all this worth ? nor those other 
words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union 
afterwards; but everywhere, spread all over in cha- 
racters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as 
they float over the sea and over the land, and in every 
wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear 
to every true American heart, — Liberty and Union, now 
and forever, one and inseparable ! 




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LOWELL'S LIBRARY-CATALOGUE. 



113. 

114. 

115. 

116. 
117. 
118. 

120. 
121. 
122. 
138. 

124. 

125. 
126. 

127. 

129. 
180. 



140. 
141. 

142. 

143. 
144. 

145. 

146. 
147. 
148. 

151. 
152. 
153. 

154. 
155. 

156. 

157. 

158. 

160. 

161. 
163. 



More Words About the Bible, 

by Rev. Jas. S. Bush 20 

Mou sieur Lecoq, Gaboriau Ft. I . . 20 

Monsieur Lecoq, Pt. IT 20 

An Outline of Irish History, by 

Justin H. McCarthy 10 

The Lerouge Case, by Gaboriau. . 20 
Paul Clifford, by Lord Lytrou . . .20 
A New Lease of Life, by About . 

Bourbon Lilies 

Other People's MoDey, Gaboriau 20 
The Lady of Lyons, Lytton... 10 

Ameline deBourg ...15 

A Sea Queen, by W. Russell ... .20 
The Ladies Lindores, by Mrs. 

Oliphant. 20 

Haunted Hearts, by Simpson. . 
I ord Beresford. by The 
Duchess . . -.20 

"Under Two Flags, Onida, I 

Under Two Flags. Pt. II 15 

Money, by Lord Lytton 10 

In Peril of His Life, by Gal . 

India, by M ' er 

-and Flashes , 20 

Moonshine and Marguerites, by 

The Duchess.. 10 

Mr. Scarborough's Famiiy, by 

Anthony Trollope, Part 1 15 

Mr Scarborough' s Family, PtII 15 
Arden, by A. Mary F. Robinson.15 
The Tower of Percemont......20 

Yolande. by Wm. Black 20 

Cru. hHattor 

The Gilded byGaborh: 

Pike County Folks, E. H. Mott. .20 

Ci Icket on the Hea t 10 

Henry Esmond, by Thackeray.. 20 
Strange Adventures of a Phae- 
ton, by Wm. Black 20 

Denis Duval, by Thackeray 10 

Old Curiosity Shop. Dickens, Pt 1.15 
Old Curiosity Shop, Part II . . . .15 

Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part I 15 

lvanhoe, by Scott, Part II 15 

White Wings, by Wm. Black.. 20 

The Sketch Book, by Irving 20 

Catherine, by W. M. Thackeray. 10 
Janet's Repentance, by Eliot. ...10 
Barnaby Rudge, Dickens, PtI..15 

Barnaby Rudge, Part II 15 

Felix Holt, by George Eliot.... 20 

Richelieu, by Lord Lytton 10 

Sunrise, by Wm. Black, Part I . . 15 
Sunrise, by Wm. Black. Part 11.15 
Tour of the World in 80 Days.. 20 

Mystery of Orcival, Gaboriau 20 

Lovel, the Widower, by W. M. 

Thackeray 10 

Romantic Adventures of a Milk- 
maid, by Thomas Hardy 10 

David Copperfield, Dickens, Pt 1.20 

David Copperfield. Part II 20 

Rienzi, by Lord Lytton, Part I. .15 
Rienzi, by Lord Lytton, Part II. 15 
Promise of Marriase, Gaboriau. .10 
Faith and Unfaith, by The 
Duchess .90 



163. 
164. 
165. 
166. 

167. 

168. 

169. 
10. 

173. 
174. 

175. 
176. 

178. 

179. 

181. 

182. 
183. 
184. 

185. 



186. 

187. 
1S8. 
189. 

190. 
191. 
192. 
193. 

194. 
195. 

196. 
197. 

198. 
199. 



200. 
201. 



202. 
BOB. 
204. 

205. 

206. 
207. 

208. 



The Happy Man, by Lover... 10 
Barry Lyndon, by Thackeray.... 20 

Eyre's Acquittal ..10 

Twenty Thousand Leagues Un- 
der the Sea, by Jules Verne . . • .20 
Anti-Slavery Days, by James 

Freeman Clarke 20 

Beauty's Daughters, by The 

Duchess 20 

Beyond the Sunrise 20 

Hard Times, by Charles Dickens.20 
Tom Cringle s Log, byM. Scott.. 20 
Vanity Fair, by W.M.Thackeray .20 
Underground Russia, Stepniak. .20 
Middlemarch, by Elliot, Pt I. ...20 

M iddlemarch. Part II 20 

Sir Tom, by Mrs. Oliphant .20 

Pelham, by Lord Lytton. 20 

The Story of Ida , 10 

Madcap Violet, by Wm. Black.. 20 

The Little Pilgrim. 10 

Kilmeny, by Wm. Black 20 

Whist, or Bumblepuppy ? 10 

The Beautiful Wretch, Blac 

Mother's Sin, by B. M. Clay.SQ 
Green Pastures and Piccadilly, 

Wm. Black .....20 

The Mysterious ..Island, by Jules 

Verne, Part I. 15 

The Mysterious Islaud, Part II. . 15 
The Mysterious Island, Part III. 15 
Tom Brown at Oxford, Part I. . . 15 
Tom Brown at Oxford, Part II. . 15 
Thicker than Water, by J.Payn.2) 
In Silk Attire, by Wm. Black. . .20 
Scottish Chiefs, Jane Porter,Pt.I.20 

Scottish Chiefs, Part II 20 

Willy Reilly.by Will Carleton. .20 
The Nautz Family, by Shelley .20 
Great Exoectations, by Dickens.20 
Pendennfs.by Thackeray. Part 1.20 
Pendennis by Thackeray ,Part 11.20 

Widow Bedott Papers 20 

Daniel Deronda,Geo. Eliot.Pt. 1.20 

Daniel Deronda, Part II 20 

Altiora Peto, by Oliphant .20 

By the Gate of the Sea, by David 

Christie Murray 15 

Tales of a Traveller, by Irving. . .20 
Life and Voyages of Columbus, 

by Washington Irving, Part I. .20 
Life and Voyages of Columbus, 

by Washington Irving, Part 11.20 

The Pilgrim's Progress 20 

Martin Chuzzlewit, by Charles 

Dickens, Parti 20 

Martin Chuzzlewit, Part II 20 

Theophrastus Such. Geo. Eliot... 20 
Disarmed, M. Betham-Edwards..l5 
Eugene Aram, by Lord Lytton. 20 
The Spanish Gypsy and Other ' 

Poems, by George Eliot 20 

Cast Up by the Sea. Baker 20 

Mill on the Floss, Eliot, Pt. I. ..16 

Mill on the Floss, Part II 15 

Brother Jacob, and Mr. Gilfil's 

Love Story, by George Eliot. . . 10 
Wrecks in the Sea of Life 20 




SECRET 

VJ OF 



BEAUTY. 

How to Beautify the Complexion. 

All women know t nat it is beauty, rather than genius, which all generations 
of men have worshipped in the sex. Can it be wondered at, then, that so much 
of woman's time and attention should be directed to the means of developing 
and preserving that beauty ! The most important adjunct to beauty is a clear, 
smooth, soft and beautiful skin. With this essential a lady appears handsome, 
even if her features are not perfect. 

Ladies afflicted with Tan. Freckles, Hough or Discolored Skin, should lose 
no time in procuring and applying 

LAIRD'S BLOOM OF YOUTH. 

It will immediately obliterate all such imperfections, and is entirely harm- 
less. It has been chemically analyzed by the Board of Health of New York City, 
and pronounced entirely free from any material injurious to the health or skin. 

Over two million ladies have u*»ed this delightful toilet preparation, and in 
everyinstanceithaa given entire pat isf action. Ladies, if you desire to be beauti- 
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derful efficacy. 8old by Fancy Goods Dealers and Druggists everywhere. 

Price, 75c. per Bottle. Depot, 83 John St., N. Y. 

FAIR FACES, 

And fair, in the literal and most pleasing sense, are 
those kept trksh and furi by the use of 

BUCHAN'S CARBOLIC TOILET SOAP 

This article, which for the past fifteen years has 
had the commendation of every lady who uses it, is 
made from the best oils, combined with just the 
proper amount of glycerine and chemically pure 
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FECT SOAP. 

It will positively keep the skin fresh, clear, and white; removing tan, 
freckles and discol orations from the skin; healing all eruptions; prevent chap- 
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Is pleasantly perfumed ; and neither when using or afterwards is the slight- 
est odor of the acid perceptible. 

BUCHAN'S CARBOLIC DENTAL SOAP 

Clbans and preserves the teeth; cools and refreshes the mouth; sweetens the 
breath, and i» in every way an unrivalled dental preparation. 

BUCHAN'S CARBOLIC MEDICINAL SOAP cures all 
Eruptions and Skin Diseases. 








fchtLLS 





j ■ - - y 

LIFE OF 
DANIEL 
WEBSTER. 

BY 

S. M. SMUCKER. 



Entered at the Post Office, N. Y., as second-class matter. 
Copyright, 1883, by John W. Lotew. Co. < 



+ JO I\N • W • L, OV£ 1, L • Co/\PA*JY+ 

14-6.16 V£SEV STREET 



JjELj^ ^^ ^P ^n ^p ^P < n) ^ 

jaMtoLOTM 5iH3T9?HrSiHnii!in!^ prl<*l 



LOVELL'S LIBRARY -CATALOGUE. 



l. 

2. 

3. 
4. 
5. 

6. 

7. 

8. 

9. 
10. 
11. 
12. 
13. 
14. 
15. 
16. 
17. 
18. 

19. 

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21. 
23. 
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33. 
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60. 



51. 
52. 

B3. 

54. 
55. 
56. 

57. 
58. 
59. 
60. 
01. 



Hyperion, by H. W, Longfellow. .20 
Outre-Mer, by H. W. Longfellow. 20 

The Happy Boy, by Bjflrnson 10 

Arne, by BjOrnson 10 

Frankenstein, by Mrs. Shelley... 10 

The Last of the Mohicans 20 

Clytie, by Joseph Hatton. . 20 

The Moonstone, by ( ollins, P't 1. 10 
The Moonstone, by Collins, P'tll. 10 
Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens. 20 
The Coming Race, by Lytton. ... 10 

Leila, by Lord Lytton 10 

The Three Spaniards, by Walker. 20 
TheTricks of the GreeksUnveiled.20 
L'Abbe Constantin, by Halevy .20 
Freckles, by R. F. Redcliff . . . .20 
The Dark Colleen, by Harriett Jay .20 
They Were Married 1 by Walter 

Besant and James Rice 10 

Seekers after God, by Farrar 20 

The Spanish Nun, byDeQuincey.10 

The Green Mountain Boys 20 

Fleurette, by Eugene Scribe 20 

Second Thoughts, by Broughton.20 
The New Magdalen, by Collins.. 20 

Divorce, by Margaret Lee 20 

Life of Washington, by Henley.. 20 
Social Etiquette, by Mrs. Saville.15 
Single Heart and Double Face.. 10 

Irene, by Carl Detlef 20 

Vice Versa, by F. Anstey 20 

Ernest Mai tra vers, by Lord Lytton20 
The Haunted House and Calderon 

the Courtier, by Lord Lytton. . 10 
John Halifax, by Mips Mulock. ..20 

800 Leagues on the Amazon 10 

The Cryptogram, by Jules Verne. 10 

Life of Marion, by Horry 20 

Pau,l and Virginia 10 

Tale of Two Cities, by Dickens. .2 ) 

The Hermits, by Kingsley 20 

An Adventure in Thule, and Mar- 
riage of Moira Fergus, Black .10 

A Marriage in H igh Life 20 

Robin, by Mrs. Parr 20 

Two on a Tower, by Thos. Hardy.20 
Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson.... 10 
Alice; or, the Mysteries, being 

Part II. of Ernest Maltravers. .20 
Duke of Kandos, by A. Mathey...20 

Baron Munchausen 10 

A Princess of Thule, by Black.. 20 
The Secret Despatch, by Grant, 20 
Early Days of Christianity, by 

Canon Farrar, D D , Part I. . . .20 
Early Days of Christianity, Pt. 11.20 
Vicar of Wakefield, by Goldsmith. 10 
Frogrees and Poverty, by Henry 

George 

The Spy, by Cooper 

East Lynne, by Mrs. Wood... 20 
A Strange Story, by Lord Lytton... 20 

Adam Bede, by Eliot, Parti 15 

Adam Bede, Part II 15 

The Golden Shaft, by Gibbon. . . .20 

Portia, by The Duchess 20 

Laet Days of Pompeii, by Lytton.. 20 
The Two Duchesses, by Mathey. .20 
Tom Browns School Days 20 



62. 



63. 

64. 

65. 
66. 
67. 

68. 
69. 
70. 
71. 

72. 
73. 
74. 
75. 
76. 
77. 
78. 
79. 

80. 
81. 
82. 
83. 



The Wooing O't, by Mrs. Alex- 
ander. Parti 

The Woomg O't, Part II 

The Vendetta, by Balzac 

Hypatia.by Chas. Kingsley,P'tI 

Hypatia, by Kingsley, Part II. . . 

Selma, by Mrs. J. G. Smith 

Margaret and her Bridesmaids. 

Horse Shoe Robinson, Parti... 

Horse Shoe Robinson, Part II. . 

Gullivers Travels, by Swift 

Amos Barton, by George Eliot.. 
Berber, by W . E . Mayo .... 

Silas Marner, by George Eliot. . 

The Queen of the County 

Life of Cromwell, by Hood.. 

Jane Eyre. byCharlotic Bronte 

Child's History of England 

Molly Bawn, by The Duchess. . 

Pillone, by William Bergsoe 

Phyllis, by The Duchess 

Romola, by Ceo. Eliot, Part I. . 

Romola, by Geo. Eliot, Part II. 

Science in Short Chapters 

Zanoni, by Lord Lytton 

A Daughter of Heth 

The Right and Wrong Uses of 
the Bible, R. Heber Newton 



15 

15 

20 

15 

15 

15 

.20 

.15 

.15 

,20 

.10 

20 

.10 

20 

15 

20 

20 

15 

20 
15 
15 
20 

20 



84. Night and Morning. Pt. I. 



85. 
86. 
87. 
88. 
89. 
90. 
91. 

92. 
93. 
94. 

95. 

96. 
97. 
98. 
99. 

100. 

101. 
102. 

103. 

104. 

105. 

106. 

107. 

108. 
109. 
110. 
111. 
112. 



Night and Morning, Part II 

Shandon Bells, by Wm. Black. 

Monica, by the Duchess 

Heart and Science, by Collins. . . 

The Golden Calf, by Braddon. . 

The Dean's Daughter 

Mrs. Geoffrey, by The Duchess. 

Pickwick Papers, Part I 

Pickwick Papers, Part II 

Airy. Fairy Lilian, The Du< 

McLeod of Dare, by Wm. Black 

Tempest Tossed, by Tilton P 1 1 

Tempest Tossed, by Tilton. P t II 

Letters from High Latitudes, by 
Lord Dufferiu 

Gideon Fleyce, b*- Lucy. . 

India and Ceylon, 1 /E.Heeekei . 

The Gypsy Queen 

The Admiral's Ward 

Nimport, by EL. Bynner, P't I . 

Nimport, byE. L. Bynner, P't II. 

Harry Holbrooke 

Tritons, by E. L. Bynner, P't I. . . 

Tritons, by E. L. Bynner, P't II. . 

Let Nothing You Dismay, by 
Walter Besant 

Ladv Audle.y's Secret, by Miss 
M E. Braddon 

Woman's Vlnae To-day, by Mrs. 
Lillie Devereux Blake 

Dunallan, by Kennedy, Parti. . . 

Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part II. . 

Housekeeping and Home- mak- 
ing, by Marion Harland 

No New Thing, by W. E. Norris. 

The Spoopendyke Papers 

False Hopes, by Goldwin Smith. 

Labor and Capital 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part I 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part II 



.20 
15 
15 
20 
10 
20 
20 
,20 
20 
20 
20 
20 
20 
20 
20 

20 

20 
SO 

20 
]5 
15 
.20 
15 
15 

10 

20 

20 

15 

15 
20 
20 
15 
20 
15 
15 



THE 



LIFE, SPEECHES AND MEMORIALS 



OF 



DANIEL WEBSTER; 



CONTAINING 

HIS MOST CELEBRATED ORATIONS, A SELECTION FROM THE 

EULOGIES DELIVERED ON THE OCCASION OF HIS DEATH; 

AND HIS LITE AND TIMES, 



BY 



SAMUEL M. SMUCKER, LL.D. 



PART II 



NEW YORK: 
JOHN W. LOYELL COMPANY, 
r.J & 16 Vesey Street. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 

DUANE EULISON, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the East"-n 

District of Pennsylvania. 



II. 



In the Senate of the United States. March 7, 1 850, on the Slavery 

Compromise. 



The Vice-President. The resolutions submitted by 
i?-e Senator from Kentucky were made the special order 
q[ the day at 12 o'clock. On this subject the Senator 
from Wisconsin (Mr. Walker) has the floor. 

Mr. Walker. Mr. President, this vast audience has not 
assembled to hear me ; and there is but one man, in mv 
opinion, who can assemble such an audience. They expect 
to hear him, and I feel it to be my duty, as well as my plea- 
sure, to give the floor therefore to the Senator from Mas- 
sachusetts. I understand it is immaterial to him upon 
which of these questions he speaks, and therefore I will 
not move to postpone the special order. 

Mr. Webster. I beg to express my obligations to un- 
friend from Wisconsin, (Mr. Walker,) as well as to my 
friend from New York, (Mr. Seward.) for their courtesy in 
allowing me to address the Senate this morning. 

Mr. President : I wish to speak to-day, not as a Mas- 
sachusetts man, nor as a Northern man, but as an Ame- 
rican, and a member of the Senate of the United States. 
It is fortunate that there is a Senate of the United States; 
a body not yet moved from its propriety, not lost to a just 
sense of its own dignity and its own high responsibilities, 
and a body to which the country looks with confidence for 
wise, moderate, patriotic, and healing counsels. It is not 

22 253 



254 SPEECHES OF DANIEL AVEBSIER. 

to be denied that we live in the midst of strong agitations, 
and are surrounded by very considerable dangers to our 
institutions of government. The imprisoned winds are let 
loose. The East, the West, the North, and the stormy 
South, all combine to throw the whole ocean into commo- 
tion, to toss its billows to the skies, and to disclose its pro- 
foundest depths. I do not affect to regard myself, Mr. 
President, as holding, or as fit to hold, the helm in this 
combat of the political elements ; but I have a duty to 
perform, and I mean to perform it with fidelity — not with- 
out a sense of surrounding dangers, but not without hope. 
I have a part to act, not for my own security or safety, for 
I am looking out for no fragment upon which to float away 
from the wreck, if wreck there must be, but for the good 
of the whole, and the preservation of the whole ; and there 
is that which will keep me to my duty during this struggle, 
whether the sun and the stars shall appear, or shall not 
appear, for many days. I speak to-day for the preserva- 
tion of the Union. " Hear me for my cause." I speak 
to-day, out of a solicitous and anxious heart, for the 
restoration to. the country of that quiet and that harmony 
which make the blessings of this Union so rich and so dear 
to us all. These are the topics that I propose to myself to 
discuss ; these are the motives, and the sole motives, that 
influence me in the w r ish to communicate my opinions to 
the Senate and the country ; and if I can do any thing, 
however little, for the promotion of these ends, I shall have 
accomplished all that I desire. 

Mr. President, it may not be amiss to recur very briefly 
to the events which, equally sudden and extraordinary, 
have brought the political condition of the country to what 
it now is. In May, 1846, the United States declared war 
against Mexico. Her armies, then on the frontiers, entered 
the provinces of that Republic ; met and defeated all her 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 256 

troops j penetrated her mountain-passes, and occupied her 
capital. The marine force of the United States took pos- 
session of her forts and her towns on the Atlantic and on 
the Pacific. In less than two years a treaty was negotiated, 
by which Mexico ceded to the United States a vast ter- 
ritory, extending seven or eight hundred miles along the 
shores of the Pacific, reaching back over the mountains, 
and across the desert, and until it joined the frontier of the 
State of Texas. It so happened that in the distracted and 
feeble state of the Mexican Government, before the declara- 
tion of war by the United States against Mexico had be- 
come known in California, the people of California, under 
the lead of American officers, overthrew the existing pro- 
vincial Government of California — the Mexican authorities 
-—and ran up an independent flag. When the news arrived 
at San Francisco that war had been declared by the United 
States against Mexico, thi3 independent flag was pulled 
down, and the stars and stripes of this Union hoisted in 
its stead. So, sir, before the war was over, the powers of 
the United States, military and naval, had possession of 
San Francisco and Upper California, and a great rush of 
emigrants from various parts of the world took place into 
California in 1846 and 1847. But now behold another 
wonder. 

In January of 1848, the Mormons, it is said, or some 
of them, made a discovery of an extraordinary rich mine 
of gold — or, rather, of a very great quantity of gold, 
hardly fit to be called a mine, for it was spread near the 
surface — on the lower part of the south or American 
branch of the Sacramento. They seem to have attempted 
to conceal their discovery for some time ; but soon another 
discovery, perhaps of greater importance, was made of 
gold, in another part of the American branch of the Sacra- 
mento, and near Sutter's Fort, as it is called. The fame 



256 speech 1 .:.- of daniel Webster. 

of these discoveries spread far and wide. They excited 
more and more the spirit of emigration toward California, 
which had already been excited ; and persons crowded in 
hundreds, and nocked toward the Bay of San Francisco. 
This, as I have said, took place in the winter and spring 
of 1848. The digging commenced in the spring of that 
year, and from that time to this the work of searching for 
gold has been prosecuted with a success not heretofore 
known in the history of this globe. We all know, sir, how 
incredulous the American public was at the accounts which 
reached us at first of these discoveries ; but we all know 
now that these accounts received, and continue to receive, 
daily confirmation ; and down to the present moment I 
suppose the assurances are as strong, after the experience 
of these several months, of mines of gold apparently inex- 
haustible in the regions near San Francisco, in California, 
as they were at any period of the earlier dates of the ac- 
counts. It so happened, sir, that although in the time of 
peace, it became a very important subject for legislative 
consideration and legislative decision to provide a proper 
territorial Government for California, yet differences of 
opinion in the counsels of the Government prevented the 
establishment of any such territorial Government for Cali- 
fornia, at the last session of Congress. Under this state 
of things, the inhabitants of San Francisco and California 
— then amounting to a great number of people — in the 
summer of last year, thought it to be their duty .to esta- 
blish a local Government. Under the proclamation of 
General Riley, the people chose delegates to a convention : 
that convention met at Monterey. They formed a Con- 
stitution for the State of California, and it was adopted by 
the people of California in their primary assemblages. 
Desirous of immediate connection with the United States, 
its Senators were appointed and representatives chosen, 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 257 

who have come hither, bringing with them the authentic 
Constitution of the State of California ; and they now 
present themselves, asking, in behalf of their State, that 
the State may be admitted into this Union as one of the 
United States. This Constitution, sir, contains an express 
prohibition against slavery or involuntary servitude in the 
State of California. It is said, and I suppose truly, that 
of the members who composed that convention, some six- 
teen were natives and had been residents of the slave- 
holding States, about twenty-two were from the non-slave- 
holding States, and the remaining ten members were either 
native Californians or old settlers in that country. This 
prohibition against slavery, it is said, was inserted with 
entire unanimity. 

Mr. Hale. Will the Senator give way until order is 
restored ? 

The Vice-President. The sergeant-at-arms will see 
that order is restored, and no more persons admitted to the 
floor. 

Mr. Cass. I trust the scene of the other day will not 
be repeated. The sergeant-at-arms must display more 
energy in suppressing this disorder. 

Mr. Hale. The noise is outside of the door. 

Mr. Webster. And it is this circumstance, sir, the 
prohibition of slavery by that convention, which has con- 

iributed to raise — I do not say it has wholly raised the 

dispute as to the propriety of the admission of California 
into the Union under this Constitution. It is not to be 
denied, Mr. President— nobody thinks of denying— that, 
whatever reasons were assigned at the commencement of 
the late war with Mexico, it was prosecuted for the pur- 
pose of the acquisition of territory, and under the alleged 
argument that the cession of territory was the only form 
in which proper compensation could be made to the United 



22* 



258 speeches of daniel webster. 

States by Mexico for the various claims and demands 
which the people of this country had against that Govern- 
ment. At any rate, it will be found that President Polk's 
message, at the commencement of the session of Decem- 
ber, 1847, avowed that the war was to be prosecuted until 
some acquisition of territory was made. And, as the ac- 
quisition was to be south of the line of the United States, 
in warm climates and countries, it was naturally, I sup- 
pose, expected by the South, that whatever acquisitions 
were made in that region would be added to the slave- 
holding portion of the United States. Events turned out 
as was not expected, and that expectation has not been 
realized ; and therefore some degree of disappointment 
and surprise has resulted, of course. In other words, it is 
obvious that the question which has so long harassed the 
country, and at some times very seriously alarmed the 
minds of wise and good men, has come upon us for a 
fresh discussion, — the question of slavery in these United 
States. 

Now, sir, I propose — perhaps at the expense of some 
detail and consequent detention of the Senate — to review, 
historically, this question of slavery, which, partly in con- 
sequence of its own merits, and partly, perhaps mostly, in 
the manner it is discussed in one and the other portion of 
the country, has been a source of so much alienation and 
unkind feeling between the different portions of the Union. 
We all know, sir, that slavery has existed in the world 
from time immemorial. There was slavery in the earliest 
periods of history, in the Oriental nations. There was 
slavery among the Jews ; the theocratic Government of 
that people made no injunction against it. There was 
slavery among the Greeks ; and the ingenious philosophy 
of the Greeks found, or sought to find, a justification for 
it exactly upon the grounds which have been assumed for 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 259 

fluch a justification in this country ; that is, a natural and 
original difference among the races of mankind, the in- 
feriority of the black or colored race to the white. The 
Greeks justified their system of slavery upon that ground 
precisely. They held the African, and in some parts 
the Asiatic, tribes to be inferior to the white race ; but 
they did not show, I think, by any close process of logic, 
that, if this were true, the more intelligent and stronger 
had, therefore, a right to subjugate the weaker. 

The more manly philosophy and jurisprudence of the 
Romans placed the justification of slavery on entirely 
different grounds. 

The Roman jurists, from the first, and down to the fall 
of the Empire, admitted that slavery was against the 
natural law, by which, as they maintained, all men, of 
whatsoever clime, color, or capacity, were equal ; but they 
justified slavery, first, upon the ground and authority of 
the law of nations — arguing, and arguing truly, that at 
that day the conventional law of nations admitted that 
captives in war, whose lives, according to the notions of 
the times, were at the absolute disposal of the captors, 
might, in exchange for exemption from death, be made 
slaves for life, and that such servitude might extend to 
their posterity. The jurists of Rome also maintained, 
that, by the civil law, there might be servitude — slavery, 
personal and hereditary ; first, by the voluntary act of 
an individual who might sell himself into slavery ; second, 
by his being received into a state of slavery by his credi- 
tors in satisfaction of a debt ; and, thirdly, by being placed 
in a state of servitude or slavery for crime. At the intro- 
duction of Christianity into the world, the Roman world 
was full of slaves ; and I suppose there is to be found no 
injunction against that relation between man and man in 
the teachings of the gospel of Jesus Christ or any of his 



2G0 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

apostles. The object of the instruction imparted to man- 
kind by the Founder of Christianity was to touch the 
heart, purify the soul, and improve the lives of individual 
men. That object went directly to the first fountain of 
all political and all social relations of the human race — 
the individual heart and mind of man. 

Now, sir, upon the general nature, and character, and 
influence of slavery, there exists a wide difference between 
the Northern portion of this country and the Southern. 
It is said on the one side that, if not the subject of any 
injunction or direct prohibition in the New Testament, 
slavery is a wrong ; that it is founded merely in the right 
of the strongest ; and that it is an oppression, like all 
unjust wars, like all those conflicts by which a mighty 
nation subjects a weaker nation to their will ; and that 
slavery, in its nature, whatever may be said of it in 
modifications which have taken place, is not, in fact, ac- 
cording to the meek spirit of the gospel. It is not kindly 
affectioned; it does not "seek another's, and not its own." 
It does not "let the oppressed go free." These are sen- 
timents that are cherished, and recently with greatly 
augmented force, among the people of the Northern 
States. It has taken hold of the religious sentiment of 
that part of the country, as it has more or less taken hold 
of the religious feelings of a considerable portion of man- 
kind. The South, upon the other side, having been ac- 
customed to this relation between the two races all their 
lives, from their birth — having been taught in general to 
treat the subjects of this bondage with care and kindness 
— and I believe, in general, feeling for them great care 
and kindness — nave yet not taken this view of the subject 
which I have mentioned. There are thousands of religious 
men, with consciences as tender as any of their brethren 
at the North, who do not see the unlawfulness of slavery ; 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 261 

and there are more thousands, perhaps, that, whatsoever 
thej may think of it in its origin, and as a matter de- 
pending upon natural right, yet take things as they are, 
and, finding slavery to be an established relation of the 
society in which they live, can see no way in which — let 
their opinions on the abstract question be what they may 
— it is in the power of the present generation to relieve 
themselves from this relation. And in this respect candor 
obliges me to say, that I believe they are just as con- 
scientious, many of them, and of the religious people all 
of them, as they are in the North in holding different 
opinions. 

Why, sir, the honorable Senator from South Carolina, 
the other day, alluded to the separation of that great 
religious community, the Methodist Episcopal Church. 
That separation was brought about by differences of opi- 
nion upon this peculiar subject of slavery. I felt great 
concern, as that dispute went on, about the result, and I 
was in hopes that the differences of opinion might be ad- 
justed, because I looked upon that religious denomination 
as one of the great props of religion and morals through- 
out the whole country, from Maine to Georgia. The 
result was against my wishes and against my hopes. I 
have read all their proceedings, and all their arguments, 
but I have never yet been able to come to the conclusion 
that there was any real ground for that separation ; in 
other words, that no good could be produced by that 
separation. I must say I think there was some want of 
candor and charity. Sir, when . a question of this kind . 
takes hold of the religious sentiments of mankind, and. 
comes to be discussed in religious, assemblies .of. the .clergy 
and laity, there is- always to be expected, or -always to be 
feared, a great degree of excitement. It is in the nature 
of man, manifested by his whole history, that religious 



262 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

disputes are apt to become warm, and men's strength of 
conviction is proportionate to their views of the magnitude 
of the questions. In all such disputes there will some- 
times men be found with whom every thing is absolute— 
absolutely wrong, or absolutely right. They see the right 
clearly ; they think others ought to see it, and they are 
disposed to establish a broad line of distinction between 
what is right and what is wrong. And they are not 
seldom willing to establish that line upon their own con- 
victions of the truth and the justice of their own opinions ; 
and are willing to mark and guard that line, by placing 
along it a series of dogmas, as lines of boundary are 
marked by posts and stones. There are men who, with 
clear perceptions, as they think, of their own duty, do 
not see how too hot a pursuit of one duty may involve 
them in the violation of others, or how too warm an ein- 
bracement of one truth may lead to a disregard of other 
truths equally important. As I heard it stated strongly, 
not many days ago, these persons are disposed to mount 
upon some particular duty as upon a war-horse, and to 
drive furiously on, and upon, and over all other duties 
that may stand in the way. There are men who, in times 
of that sort, and disputes of that sort, are of opinion that 
human duties may be ascertained with the exactness of 
mathematics. They deal with morals as with mathematics, 
and they think what is right may be distinguished from 
what is wrong with the precision of an algebraic equation. 
They have, therefore, none too much charity toward others 
who differ from them. They are apt, too, to think that 
nothing is good but what is perfect, and that there are no 
compromises or modifications to be made in submission to 
difference of opinion, or in deference to other men's judg- 
ment: If their perspicacious vision enables tHeni to detect 
a spot on the face of the sun, they think that a good 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 26?) 

reason why the sun should be struck down from heaver.. 
They prefer the chance of running into utter darkness, to 
living in heavenly light, if that heavenly light be not ab- 
solutely without any imperfection. There are impatient 
men — too impatient always to give heed to the admonition 
of St. Paul, " that we are not to do evil that good may 
come" — too impatient to wait for the slow progress of 
moral causes, in the improvement of mankind. They do 
not remember, that the doctrines and the miracles of Jesus 
Christ have, in eighteen hundred years, converted only a 
small portion of the human race; and among the nation? 1 
that are converted to Christianity, they forget how man) 
vices and crimes, public and private, still prevail, and that 
many of them — public crimes especially, which are offences 
against the Christian religion — pass without exciting par 
ticular regret or indignation. Thus wars are waged, and 
unjust wars. I do not deny that there may be just wars. 
There certainly are ; but it was the remark of an eminent 
person, not many years ago, on the other side of the 
Atlantic, that it was one of the greatest reproaches to 
human nature that wars were sometimes necessary. The 
defence of nations sometimes causes a war against the 
injustice of other nations. 

Now, sir, in this state of sentiment upon the general 
nature of slavery, lies the cause of a great portion of 
those unhappy divisions, exasperations, and reproaches 
which find vent and support in different parts of 'the 
Union. Slavery does exist in the United States. It did 
exist in the States before the adoption of this Constitu- 
tion, and at that time. 

And now let us consider, sir, for a moment, what was 
the state of sentiment, North and South, in regard to 
slavery, at the time this Constitution was adopted. A 
remarkable change hag taken place since ; but what did 



;j"64 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the wise and great men of all parts of the country think 
of slavery? — in what estimation did they hold it then, 
when this Constitution was adopted ? Now, it will be 
found, sir, if we will carry ourselves by historical research 
back to that day, and ascertain men's opinions by authentic 
records still existing among us, that there was no great 
diversity of opinion between the North and the South upon 
the subject of slavery; and it will be found that both 
parts of the country held it equally an evil — a moral and 
political evil. It will not be found that either at the 
North or at the South there was much, though there was 
some, invective against slavery, as inhuman and cruel. 
The great ground of objection to it was political ; that it 
weakened the social fabric ; that, taking the place of free 
labor, society was less strong and labor was less produc- 
tive ; and, therefore, we find, from all the eminent men 
of the time, the clearest expression of their opinion that 
slavery was an evil. And they ascribed its existence here, 
not without truth, and not without some acerbity of temper 
and force of language, to the injurious policy of the 
mother-country, who, to favor the navigator, had entailed 
these evils upon the colonies. I need hardly refer, sir, to 
the publications of the day. They are matters of history 
on the record. The eminent men, the most eminent men, 
and nearly all the conspicuous politicians of the South, 
held the same sentiments ; that slavery was an evil, a 
blight, a blast, a mildew, a scourge, and a curse. There 
are no terms of reprobation of slavery so vehement in 
the North of that day as in the South. The North was 
not so much excited against it as the South, and the reason 
is, I suppose, because there was much less at the. North, 
and the people did;not see, or think they saw, the evils so 
prominently as they were seen, or thought to be seen, at 
the South. 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 265 

Then, sir, when this Constitution was framed, this was 
the light in which the convention viewed it. The conven- 
tion reflected the judgment and sentiments of the great 
men of the South. A membe#of the other House, whom 
I have not the honor to know, in a recent speech, has col- 
lected extracts from these public documents. They prove 
the truth of what I am saying, and the question then was, 
how to deal with it, and how to deal with it as an evil. 
Well, they came to this general result. They thought 
that slavery could not be continued in the country, if the 
importation of slaves were made to cease, and therefore 
they provided that after a certain period the importation 
might be prevented by the act of the new Government. 
Twenty years were proposed by some gentleman, — a 
Northern gentleman, I think, — and many of the Southern 
gentlemen opposed it as being too long. Mr. Madison 
especially was something warm against it. He said it 
would bring too much of this mischief into the country to 
allow the importation of slaves for such a period. Because 
we must take along with us, in the whole of this discussion, 
when we are considering the sentiments and opinions in 
which this constitutional provision originated, that the con- 
viction of all men was, that, if the importation of slaves 
ceased, the white race would multiply faster than the black 
race, and that slavery would therefore gradually wear out 
and expire. It may not be improper here to allude to 
that, I had almost said, celebrated opinion of Mr. Madison. 
You observe, sir, that the term "slave" or "slavery" is 
not used in the Constitution. The Constitution does not 
require that "fugitive slaves" shall be delivered up. It 
requires that " persons bound to service in one State, and 
escaping into another, shall be delivered up." Mr. Madison 
opposed the introduction of the term " slave" or " slavery" 
into the Constitution ; for he said that he did not wish to 

23 



26b SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER.. 

see it recognised by the Constitution of the United States 
of America, that there could be property in men. Now, 
sir, all this took place at the convention in 1787 ; but con- 
nected with this — concuri^nt and contemporaneous — is 
another important transaction not sufficiently attended to. 
The convention for framing this Constitution assembled in 
Philadelphia in May, and sat until September, 1787. 
During all that time the Congress of the United States 
was in session at New York. It was a matter of design, 
as we know, that the convention should not assemble in 
the same city where Congress was holding its sessions. 
Almost all the public men of the country, therefore, of 
distinction and eminence, were in one or the other of these 
two assemblies ; and I think it happened in some instances 
that the same gentlemen were members of both. If I 
mistake not, such was the case of Mr. Ilufus King, then a 
member of Congress from Massachusetts, and at the same 
time a member of the convention to frame the Constitution 
from that State. Now, it was in the summer of 1787, the 
very time when the convention in Philadelphia was framing 
this Constitution, that the Congress in New York was 
framing the ordinance of 1787. They passed that ordinance 
on the 13th of July, 1787, at New York, the very month, 
perhaps the very day, on which these questions about the 
importation of slaves and the character of slavery were 
debated in the convention at Philadelphia. And, so far as 
we can now learn, there was a perfect concurrence of 
opinion between these respective bodies ; and it resulted in 
this ordinance of 1787, excluding slavery as applied to all 
the territory over which the Congress of the United States 
had jurisdiction, and that was all the territory northwest 
of the Ohio. Three years before, Virginia and other 
States had made a cession of that great territory to the 
United States. And a most magnificent act it was. I 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 267 

never reflect upon it without a disposition to do honor anc 1 
justice — and justice would be the highest honor — to Vir- 
ginia for that act of cession of her northwestern territory. 
I will say, sir, it is one of her fairest claims to the respect 
and gratitude of the United States, and that perhaps it is 
only second to that other claim which attaches to her — 
that, from her counsels, and from the intelligence and 
patriotism of her leading statesmen, proceeded the first 
idea put into practice for the formation of a general Con- 
stitution of the United States. Now, sir, the ordinance 
of 1787 applied thus to the whole territory over which the 
Congress of the United States had jurisdiction. It was 
adopted nearly three years before the Constitution of the 
United States went into operation, because the ordinance 
took effect immediately on its passage ; while the Constitu- 
tion of the United States, having been framed, was to be 
sent to the States to be adopted by their conventions, and 
then a government had to be organized under it. This 
ordinance, then, was in operation and force when the Con- 
stitution was adopted, and this Government put in motion, 
in April, 1789. 

Mr. President, three things are quite clear as historical 
truths. . One is, that there was an expectation that on the 
ceasing of the importation of slaves from Africa, slavery 
would begin to run out. That was hoped and expected. 
Another is, that, as far as there was any power in Congress 
to prevent the spread of slavery in the United States, that 
power was executed in the most absolute manner, and to 
the fullest extent. An honorable member whose health 
does not allow him to be here to-day— 

A Senator. He is here. (Referring to Mr. Calhoun.) 

Mr. Weustkh. I am \ary happy to hear that he is; 

may he long be in health and the enjoyment of it to serve 

his country — said, the other day, that he considered this 



268 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

ordinance as the first in the series of measures calculated 
to enfeeble the South, and deprive them of their just par- 
ticipation in the benefits and privileges of this Government. 
He says very properly that it was done under the old Con- 
federation, and before this Constitution went into effect ; 
but my present purpose is only to say, Mr. President, that 
it was done with the entire and' unanimous concurrence of 
the whole South. Why, there it stands ! The vote of 
every State in the Union was unanimous in favor of the 
ordinance, with the exception of a single individual vote, 
and that individual was a Northern man. But, sir, the 
ordinance abolishing or rather prohibiting slavery north- 
west of the Ohio has the hand and seal of every Southern 
member in Congress. The other and third clear historical 
truth is, that the convention meant to leave slavery, in the 
States, as they found it, entirely under the control of the 
States. 

This was the state of things, sir, and this the state of 
opinion, under which those very important matters were 
arranged, and those two important things done ; that is, 
. the establishment of the Constitution, with a recognition 
of slavery as it existed in the States, and the establishment 
of the ordinance, prohibiting, to the full extent of all ter- 
ritory owned by the United States, the introduction of 
slavery into those territories, and the leaving to the States 
all power over slavery, in their own limits. And here, sir, 
we may pause. We may reflect for a moment upon the 
entire coincidence and concurrence of sentiment between 
the North and the South upon these questions at the period 
of the adoption of the Constitution. But opinions, sir, 
have changed — greatly changed — changed North and 
changed South. Slavery is not regarded in the South 
now as it was then. I see an honorable member of this 
body paying me the honor of listening to my remarks ; he 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 26S 

brings to mt, sir, freshly and vividly, the sentiments of his 
great ancestor, so much distinguished in his day and gene- 
ration, so worthy to be succeeded by so worthy a grandson, 
with all the sentiments he expressed in the convention of 
Philadelphia. 

Here we may pause. There was, if not an entire 

unanimity, a general concurrence of sentiment, running 

through the whole community, and especially entertained 

by the eminent men of all portions of the country. But 

soon a change began at the North and the South, and a 

severance of opinion showed itself — the North growing 

much more warm and strong against slavery, and the South 

growing much more warm and strong in its support. Sir, 

there is no generation of mankind whose opinions are not 

subject to be influenced by what appears to them to be their 

present, emergent, selfish, and exigent interest. I impute 

to the South no particular selfish view in the change which 

has come over her. I impute to her certainly no dishonest 

view. All that has happened has been natural. It has 

followed those causes which always influence the human 

mind and operate upon it. What, then, have been the 

causes which have created so new a feeling in favor of 

slavery in the South — which have changed the whole 

nomenclature of the South on the subject — and from being 

thought of and described in the terms I have mentioned 

and will not repeat, it has now become an institution, a 

cherished institution, in that quarter ; no evil, no scourge, 

but a great religious, social, and moral blessing, as I think 

I have heard it latterly described? I suppose this, sir, is 

owing to the sudden uprising and. rapid growth of the 

cotton-plantations, of -the South.. So far as. any motive of 

honor, justice, and general judgment .could act, it was "the 

cotton-interest that gave a. new desire to promote slavery, 

to spread it, and to use its labor. I again say that that 

23* 



27C SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

was produced by the causes which we must always expect 
to produce like effects; their whole interest became con- 
nected with it. If we look back to the history of the 
commerce of this country, at the early years of this Go 
vernment, what were our exports? Cotton was hardly, 01 
but to a very limited extent, known. The tables will show 
that the exports of cotton for the years 1790 and '91 were 
not more than forty or fifty thousand dollars a year. It 
has gone on increasing rapidly, until it may now, perhaps, 
in a season of great product and high prices, amount to a 
hundred millions of dollars. In the years I have men- 
tioned there was more of wax, more of indigo, more of 
rice, more of almost every article of export from the 
South, than of cotton. I think I have heard it said, when 
Mr. Jay negotiated the treaty of 1794 with England, he 
did not know that cotton was exported at all from the 
United States ; and I have heard it said that, after the 
treaty which gave to the United States the right to carry 
their own commodities to England, in their own ships, the 
custom-house in London refused to admit cotton, upon an 
allegation that it could not be an American production, 
there being, as they supposed, no cotton raised in America. 
They would hardly think so now ! 

Well, sir, we know what followed. The age of cotton 
became a golden age for our Southern brethren. It grati- 
fied their desire for improvement and accumulation at the 
same time that it excited it. The desire grew by what it- 
fed upon, and there soon came to be an eagerness for other 
territory, a new area, or new areas, for the cultivation of 
the cotton-crop, and measures leading to this result were 
brought about, rapidly, one after another, under the lead 
)f Southern men at the head of the Government, they 
aaving a majority -in both branches to accomplish their 
ends. The honorable member from Carolina observed that 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 271 

there has been a majority all along in favor of the North. 
If that be true, sir, the North has acted either very libe- 
rally and kindly, or very weakly; for they never exercised 
that majority five times in the history of the Government. 
Never. Whether they were outgeneralled, or whether it 
was owing to other causes, I shall not stop to consider ; 
but no man acquainted with the history of the country can 
deny, that the general lead in the politics of the country 
for three-fourths of the period that has elapsed since the 
adoption of the Constitution has been a Southern lead. In 
1802, in pursuit of the idea of opening a new cotton-region, 
the United States obtained a cession from Georgia of the 
whole of her western territory, now embracing the rich and 
growing State of Alabama. In 1803 Louisiana was pur- 
chased from France, out of which the States of Louisiana, 
Arkansas, and Missouri have been framed, as slaveholding 
States. In 1819 the cession of Florida was made, bring- 
ing another cession of slaveholding property and territory. 
Sir, the honorable member from South Carolina thought 
he saw in certain operations of the Government, such as the 
manner of collecting the revenue and the tendency of those 
measures to promote emigration into the country, what 
accounts for the more rapid growth of the North than the 
South. He thinks that more rapid growth, not the opera- 
tion of time, but of the system of Government established 
under this Constitution. That is a matter of opinion. To 
a certain extent it may be so ; but it does seem to me that 
if any operation of the Government could be shown in any 
degree to have promoted the population, and growth, and 
wealth of the North, it is much more sure that there are 
sundry important and distinct operations of the Govern- 
ment, about which no man can doubt, tending to promote, 
and which absolutely have promoted, the increase of- the 
slave interest and the slave territory of the South. Allow 



272 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

me to say that it was not time that brought in Louisiana ; 
it was the act of men. It was not time that brought in 
Florida ; it was the act of men. And lastly, sir, to com- 
plete those acts of men, which have contributed so much to 
enlarge the area and the sphere of the institution of slavery, 
Texas, great, and vast, and illimitable Texas, was added to 
the Union, as a slave State, in 1845 ; and that, sir, pretty 
much closed the whole chapter, and settled the whole ac- 
count. That closed the whole chapter — that settled the 
whole account, because the annexation of Texas, upon the 
conditions and under the guarantees upon which she was 
admitted, did not leave an acre of land, capable of being 
cultivated by slave-labor, between this Capitol and the Rio 
Grande or the Nueces, or whatever is the proper boundary 
of Texas — not an acre, not one. From that moment, the 
whole country, from this place to the western boundary of 
Texas, was fixed, pledged, fastened, decided, to be slave 
territory forever, by the solemn guarantees of law. And I 
now say, sir, as the proposition upon which I stand this 
day, and upon the truth and firmness of which I intend to 
act until it is overthrown, that there is not at this moment 
within the United States, or any territory of the United 
States, a single foot of land, the character of which, in 
regard to its being freesoil territory or slave territory, is 
not fixed by some law, and some irrepealable law, beyond 
the power of the action of this Government. Now, is it 
not so with respect to Texas ? Why, it is most manifestly 
so. The honorable member from South Carolina, at the 
time of the admission of Texas, held an important post in 
the Executive department of the Government; he was 
Secretary of State. Another eminent person, of great 
activity and adroitness in affairs, I mean the late Secretary 
of the Treasury, (Mr. Walker,) was a leading member oi" 
this body, and took the lead in the business of annexation : 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 2?b 

and I must say they did their business faithfully and 
thoroughly ; there was no botch left in it. They rounded 
it off, and made as close joiner-work as ever was put 
together. Resolutions of annexation were brought into 
Congress fitly joined together — compact, firm, efficient, 
conclusive upon the great object which they had in view : 
and those resolutions passed. 

Allow me to read the resolution. It is the third clause 
of the second section of the resolution of the 1st of 
March, 1845, for the admission of Texas, which applies to 
this part of the case. That clause reads in these words : 

"New States, of convenient size, not exceeding four in 
number, in addition to said State of Texas, and having 
sufficient population, may hereafter, by the consent of 
said State, be formed out of the territory thereof, which 
shall be entitled to admission under the provisions of the 
Federal Constitution. And such States as may be formed 
out of that portion of said territory lying south of 86° 
30' north latitude, commonly known as the Missouri com- 
promise line, shall be admitted into the Union with or 
without slavery, as the people of each State asking ad- 
mission may desire ; and in such State or States as shall 
be formed out of said territory north of said Missouri 
compromise line, slavery or involuntary servitude (except 
for crime) shall be prohibited." 

Now, what is here stipulated, enacted, secured ? It is, 
that all Texas south of 36° 30', which is nearly the whole 
of it, shall be admitted into the Union as a slave State. 
It was a slave State, and therefore came in as a slave 
State ; and the guarantee is that new States shall be made 
out of it, and that such States as are formed out of that 
portion of Texas lying south of 36° 30' may come in as 
slave States to the number of four, in addition to the 
State then in existence, and admitted at that time by 



274 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTEK, 

these resolutions. I know no form of legislation which 
can strengthen that. I know no mode of recognition that 
3an add a tittle of weight to it. I listened respectfully to the 
resolution of my honorable friend from Tennessee (Mr. Bell). 
He proposed to recognise that stipulation with Texas. But 
any additional recognition would weaken the force of it, be- 
cause it stands here on the ground of a contract, a thing 
done for a consideration. It is a law founded on a con- 
tract with Texas, and designed to carry that contract into 
effect. A recognition founded not on any consideration 
or any contract would not be so strong as it now stands 
on the face of the resolution. Now, I know no way, I 
candidly confess, in which this Government, acting in good 
faith, as I trust it always will, can relieve itself from that 
stipulation and pledge, by any honest course of legislation 
whatever. And, therefore, I say again that, so far as 
Texas is concerned — the whole of Texas south of 36° 30 r , 
which I suppose embraces all the slave territory — there is 
no land, not an acre, the character of which is not esta- 
blished by law, a law which cannot be repealed without 
the violation of a contract, and plain disregard of the 
public faith. 

I hope, sir, it is now apparent that my proposition, so 
far as Texas is concerned, has been maintained ; and the 
provision in this article — and it has been well suggested 
by my friend from Rhode Island that that part of Texas 
which lies north of 34° of north latitude may be formed 
into free States — is dependent, in like manner, upon the 
consent of Texas, herself a slave State. 

Well, now, sir, how came this ? How came it that 
within these walls, where it is said by the honorable mem- 
ber from South Carolina, that the free States have a 
majority, this resolution of annexation, such as I have de- 
scribed it, found a majority in both Houses of Congress ? 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 275 

Why, sir, it found that majority by the great addition of 
Northern votes added to the entire Southern vote, or, at 
least, nearly the whole of the Southern votes. That ma 
jority was made up of Northern as well as of Southern 
votes. In the House of Representatives it stood, I think, 
about eighty Southern votes for the admission of Texas, 
and about fifty Northern votes for the admission of Texas. 
In the Senate the vote stood for the admission of Texas, 
twenty-seven, and twenty-five against it ; and of those 
twenty-seven votes, constituting a majority for the admis- 
sion of Texas in this body, no less than thirteen of then? 
came from the free States — four of them were from New 
England. The whole of these thirteen Senators from the 
free States — within a fraction, you see, of one-half of all 
the votes in this body for the admission of Texas, with its 
immeasurable extent of slave territory — were sent here by 
the votes of free States. 

Sir, there is not so remarkable a chapter in our history 
of political events, political parties, and political men, as 
is afforded bv this measure for the admission of Texas, 
with this immense territory, that a bird cannot fly over in 
a week. [Laughter.] Sir, New England, with some of her 
votes, supported this measure. Three-fourths of the votes 
of liberty-loving Connecticut went for it in the other 
House, and one-half here. There was one vote for it in 
Maine, but I am happy to say, not the vote of the honor- 
able member who addressed the Senate the day before 
yesterday, (Mr. Hamlin,) and who was then a representa- 
tive from Maine in the other House ; but there was a vote 
or two from Maine — ay, and there was one vote for it 
from Massachusetts, the gentleman then representing and 
now living in the district in which the prevalence of free- 
soil sentiment, for a couple of years or so, has defeated 
the choice of any member to represent it in Congress. 



276 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Sir, that body of Northern and Eastern men who gave 
those votes at that time, are now seen taking upon them- 
selves, in the nomenclature of politics, the appellation of 
the Northern Democracy. They undertook to wield the 
destinies of this empire — if I may call a republic an 
empire — and their policy was, and they persisted in it, to 
bring into this country all the territory they could. They 
did it under pledges, absolute pledges, to the slave interest 
in the case of Texas, and afterward they lent their aid 
in bringing in these new conquests. My honorable friend 
from Georgia, in March, 1847, moved the Senate to de- 
clare that the war ought not to be prosecuted for acquisi- 
tion, for conquest, for the dismemberment of Mexico. The 
same Northern Democracy entirely voted against it. He 
did not get a vote from them. It suited the views, the 
patriotism, the elevated sentiments of the Northern De- 
mocracy to bring in a world here, among the mountains 
and valleys of California and New Mexico, or any other 
part of Mexico, and then quarrel about it ; to bring it in, 
and then endeavor to put upon it the saving grace of the 
Wilmot proviso. There were two eminent and highly- 
respectable gentlemen from the North and East, then 
leading gentlemen in this Senate : I refer — and I do so 
with entire respect, for I entertain for both of those 
gentlemen in general high regard — to Mr. Dix, of New 
York, and Mr. Niles, of Connecticut, who voted for the 
admission of Texas. They would not have that vote any 
other way than as it stood ; and they would not have it as 
it did stand. I speak of the vote upon the annexation of 
Texas. Those two gentlemen would have the resolution 
of annexation just as it is, and they voted for it just as it 
is, and their eyes were all open to it. My honorable 
friend, the member who addressed us the other day from 
South Carolina, was then Secretary of State. His corre- 



0>.' THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 277 

fspondence with Mr. Murphy, the Charge d' Affaires of the 
United States in Texas, had been published. That corre- 
spondence was all before those gentlemen, and the Secre- 
tary had the boldness and candor to avow in that corre- 
spondence that the great object sought by the annexation 
of Texas was to strengthen the slave interest of the 
South. Why, sir, he said, in so many words 

Mr. Calhoun. Will the honorable Senator permit me 
to interrupt him for a moment ? 

Mr. Webster. Certainly. 

Mr. Calhoun. I am very reluctant to interrupt the 
honorable gentleman ; but, upon a point of so much im- 
portance, I deem it right to put myself rectus in curia. 
I did not put it upon the ground assumed by the Senator. 
I put it upon this ground — that Great Britain had an- 
nounced to this country, in so many words, that her ob- 
ject was to abolish slavery in Texas, and through Texas 
to accomplish the abolishment of slavery in the United 
States and the world. The ground I put it on was, that 
it would make an exposed frontier ; and if Great Britain 
succeeded in her object, it would be impossible that that- 
frontier could be secured against the aggression of the abo- 
litionists ; and that this Government was bound, under the 
guarantees of the Constitution, to protect us against such 
a state of things. 

Mr. Webster. That comes, I suppose, sir, to exactly 
the same thing. It was, that Texas must be obtained for 
the security of the slave interest of the South. 

Mr. Calhoun. Another view is very distinctly given. 

Mr. Webster. That was the object set forth in the 
correspondence of a worthy gentleman not now living, who 
preceded the honorable member from South Carolina in 
that ofdce. There repose on the files of the department 
of State, as I have occasion to know, strong letters from 

24 



*278 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER 

Mr. Upshur to the United States minister in England^ 
and I believe there are some to the same minister from 
the honorable Senator himself, asserting to this effect the 
sentiments of this Government, that Great Britain was 
expected not to interfere to take Texas out of the hands 
of its then existing Government, and make it a free 
country. But my argument, my suggestion, is this — that 
those gentlemen who composed the Northern Democracy 
when Texas was brought into the Union, saw, with all 
their eyes, that it was brought in as slave country, and 
brought in for the purpose of being maintained as slave 
territory to the Greek kalends. I rather think the honor- 
able gentleman, who was then Secretary of State, might, 
in some of his correspondence with Mr. Murphy, have 
suggested that it was not expedient to say too much about 
this object, that it might create some alarm. At any rate, 
Mr. Murphy wrote to him, that England was anxious to 
get rid of the Constitution of Texas, because it was a 
Constitution establishing slavery ; and that what the 
United States had to do was, to aid the people of Texas 
in upholding their Constitution ; but that nothing should 
be said that should offend the fanatical men. But, sir, 
the honorable member did avow this object, himself, 
openly, boldly, and manfully ; he did not disguise his con- 
duct, or his motives. 

Mr. Calhoun. Never, never. 

Mr. Webster. What he means he is very apt to say. 

Mr. Calhoun. Always, always. 

Mr. Webster. And I honor him for it. This admis- 
sion of Texas was in 1845. Then, in 1847, flagrante hello 
between the United States and Mexico, the proposition I 
have mentioned was brought forward by my friend from 
Georgia, and the Northern Democracy voted straight 
ahead against it. Their remedy was to apply to the 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 270 

acquisitions, after they should come in, the Wilmot pro- 
viso. What follows ? These two gentlemen, worthy, and 
honorable, and influential men — and if they had not been 
they could not have carried the measure — these twc 
gentlemen, members of this body, brought in Texas, and 
by their votes they also prevented the passage of the 
resolution of the honorable member from Georgia, and 
then they went home and took the lead in the freesoil 
party. And there they stand, sir ! They leave us here, 
bound in honor and conscience by the resolutions of an- 
nexation — they leave us here to take the odium of ful- 
filling the obligations in favor of slavery which they voted 
us into, or else the greater odium of violating those ob- 
ligations, while they are at home, making rousing and 
capital speeches for freesoil and no slavery. [Laughter.] 
And, therefore, I say, sir, that there is not a chapter in 
our history, respecting public measures and public men, 
more full of what should create surprise, more full of what 
does create, in my mind, extreme mortification, than that 
pf the conduct of this Northern Democracy. 

Mr. President, sometimes, when a man is found in a 
new relation to things around him and to other men, he 
says the world has changed, and that he has not changed. 
I believe, sir, that our self-respect leads us often to make 
this declaration in regard to ourselves, when it is not 
exactly true. An individual is more apt to change, per- 
haps, than all the world around him. But, under the 
present circumstances, and under the responsibility which 
I know I incur by what I am now stating here, I feel at 
liberty to recur to the various expressions and statements, 
made at various times, of my own opinions and resolu- 
tions respecting the admission of Texas, and all that has 
followeu Sir, as early as 1836, or in the earlier part of 
1837, a matter of conversation and correspondence be- 



280 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

tween myself and some private friends was this project 
of annexing Texas to the United States; and an honor- 
able gentleman with whom I have had a long acquaint- 
ance, a friend of mine, now perhaps in this chamber — I 
mean General Hamilton, of South Carolina — was knowing 
to that correspondence. I had voted for the recognition 
of Texan independence, because I believed it was an exist- 
ing fact, surprising and astonishing as it was, and I 
wished well to the new republic ; but I manifested from 
the first utter opposition to bringing her, with her terri- 
tory, into the Union. I had occasion, sir, in 1837, to 
meet friends in New York, on some political occasion, and 
I then stated my sentiments upon the subject. It was 
the first time that I had occasion to advert to it : and I 
will ask a friend near me to do me the favor to read an 
extract from the speech, for the Senate may find it rather 
tedious to listen to the whole of it. It was delivered in 
Niblo's Garden in 1837. 

[Mr. Greene then read the following extract from the 
speech of the honorable Senator, to which he referred : . 

" Gentlemen, we all see that, by whomsoever possessed, 
Texas is likely to be a slaveholding country ; and I frankly 
avow my entire unwillingness to do any thing which shall 
extend the slavery of the African race on this continent, 
or add other slaveholding States to the Union. 

" When I say that I regard slavery in itself as a great 
moral, social, and political evil, I only use language which 
has been adopted by distinguished men, themselves citizens 
of slaveholding States. 

"I shall do nothing, therefore, to favor or encourage its 
further extension. We. have slavery already among us. 
The Constitution found it among us ; it recognised it, and 
o-ave it solemn o;uarantees. 

" To the full extent of these guarantees we are all bound 



Ox\ THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 281 

in honor, in justice, and by the Constitution. All the 
stipulations contained in the Constitution in favor of the 
slaveholding States, which are already in the Union, ought 
to be fulfilled, and, so far as depends on me, shall be fulfilled 
in the fulness of their spirit and to the exactness of their 
letter. Slavery, as it exists in the States, is beyond the 
reach of Congress. It is a concern of the States them- 
selves. They never submitted it to Congress, and Congress 
has no rightful power over it. 

" I shall concur, therefore, in no act, no measure, no 
menace, no indication of purpose which shall interfere or 
threaten to interfere with the exclusive authority of the 
several States over the subject of slavery, as it exists within 
their respective limits. All this appears to me to be matter 
of plain and imperative duty. 

" But when we come to speak of admitting new States, 

the subject assumes an entirely different aspect. Our rights 

and our duties are then both different. 

****** 

" I see, therefore, no political necessity for the annexa- 
tion of Texas to the Union — no advantages to be derived 
from it ; and objections to it of a strong, and, in my judg- 
ment, of a decisive character." 

Mr. Webster. I have nothing, sir, to add to, nor to 
take back from, those sentiments. That, the Senate will 
perceive, was in 1837. The purpose of immediately annex- 
ing Texas at that time was abandoned or postponed ; and 
it was not revived with any vigor for some years. In the 
mean time it had so happened that I had become a member 
of the Executive administration, and was for a short period 
in the Department of State. The annexation of Texas was 
a subject of conversation — not confidential — with the Pre- 
sident and heads of department, as well as with other public 
men. No serious attempt was then made, however, to bring 

24* 



282 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

it about. I left the Department of State in M.vj, 1843, 
and shortly after I learned, though no way connect«\i with 
official information, that a design had been taken up of 
bringing in Texas, with her slave territory and population, 
into the United States. I was here in Washington at the 
time, and persons are now here who will remember that we 
had an arranged meeting for conversation upon it. I went 
home to Massachusetts, and proclaimed the existence of 
that purpose ; but I could get no audience, and but little 
attention. Some did not believe it, and some were too 
much engaged in their own pursuits to give it any heed. 
They had gone to their farms or to their merchandise, and 
it was impossible to arouse any sentiment in New England 
or in Massachusetts that should combine the two great 
political parties against this annexation ; and, indeed, there 
was no hope of bringing the Northern Democracy into that 
view, for the leaning was all the other way. But, sir, even 
with Whigs, and leading Whigs, I am ashamed to say, there 
was a great indifference toward the admission of Texas with 
slave territory into this Union. It went on. I was then 
out of Congress. The annexation resolutions passed the 
1st of March, 1845. The Legislature of Texas complied 
with the conditions, and accepted the guarantees; for the 
phraseology of the language of the resolution is, that Texas 
is to come in "upon the conditions and under the guarantees 
herein prescribed." I happened to be returned to the 
Senate in March, 1845, and was here in December, 1845, 
when the acceptance by Texas of the conditions proposed 
by Congress was laid before us by the President, and an 
act for the consummation of the connection was laid before 
the two Houses. The connection was not completed. A 
final law doing the deed of annexation ultimately and finally 
had not been passed ; and when it was upon its final pass- 
age here, I expressed my opposition to it, and recorded 



ON THE SLAVERY COxUPROMISE. 283 

my vote in the negative : and there the vote stands, with the 
observations that I made upon that occasion. It has hap- 
pened that between 1837 and this time, on various occa 
sions and opportunities, I have expressed my entire opposi- 
tion to the admission of slave States, or the acquisition of 
new slave territories, to be added to the United States. I 
know, sir, no change in my own sentiments or my own pur- 
poses in that respect. I will now again ask my friend from 
Rhode Island to read another extract from a speech of 
mine, made at a Whig convention in Springfield, Mas- 
sachusetts, in the month of September, 1847. 

[Mr. Greene here read the following extract : 

"We hear much just now of a panacea for the dangers 
and evils of slavery and slave-annexation, which they call 
the 'Wilmot Proviso. 1 That certainly is a just sentiment, 
but it is not a sentiment to found any new party upon. It 
is not a sentiment on which Massachusetts Whigs differ. 
There is not a man in this hall who holds to it more firmly 
than I do, nor one who adheres to it more than another. 

" I feel some little interest in this matter, sir. Did not 
I commit myself in 1838 to the whole doctrine, fully, 
entirely ? And I must be permitted to say that I cannot 
quite consent that more recent discoveries should claim the 
merit and take out a patent. 

" I deny the priority of their invention. Allow me to 

say, sir, it is not their thunder. 

****** 

" We are to use the first, and last, and every occasion 
which offers to oppose the extension of slave -power. 

" But I speak of it here, as in Congress, as a political 
question, a question for statesmen to act upon. We must 
so regard it. I certainly do not mean to say that it is less 
important in a moral point of view, that it is not more im- 
portant in many other points of view; but, as a legislator, 



284 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 

or in any official capacity, I must look at it, consider it, 
and decide it as a matter of political action."] 

Mr. Webster. On other occasions, in debates here, I 
have expressed my determination to vote for no acquisition, 
or cession, or annexation, North or South, East or West. 
My opinion has been, that we have territory enough, and 
that we should follow the Spartan maxim, " Improve, 
adorn what you have, seek no farther." I think that it 
was in some observations that I made here on the three 
million loan bill, that I avowed that sentiment. In short, 
sir, the sentiment has been avowed quite as often, in as 
many places, and before as many assemblies, as any humble 
sentiments of mine ought to be avowed. 

But now that, under certain conditions, Texas is in, with 
all her territories, as a slave State, with a solemn pledge 
that if she is divided into many States, those States may 
come in as slave States south of 36° 30', how are we to 
deal with this subject ? I know no way of honorable 
legislation, when the proper time comes for the enactment, 
but to carry into effect all that we have stipulated to do. I 
do not entirely agree with my honorable friend from Ten- 
nessee, (Mr. Bell,) that, as soon as the time comes when 
she is entitled to another representative, we should create 
a new State. The rule in regard to it I take to be this : 
that, when we have created new States out of Territories, 
we have generally gone upon the idea that when there is 
population enough to form a State, sixty thousand, or some 
such thing, we would create a State ; but it is quite a dif- 
ferent thing when a State is divided, and two or more 
States made out of it. It does not follow, in such a case, 
that the same rule of apportionment should be* applied. 
That, however, is a matter for the consideration of Con- 
gress, when the proper time arrives. I may not then be 
here. I may have no vote to give on the occasion ; but I 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 285 

wish it to be distinctly understood to-day, that, according 
to ray view of the matter, this Government is solemnly 
pledged by law to create new States out of Texas, with her 
consent, when her population shall justify such a proceed- 
ing ; and, so far as such States are formed out of Texan 
territory lying south of 36° 80', to let them come in as 
slave States. That is the meaning of the resolution which 
our friends, the Northern Democracy, have left us to fulfil ; 
and I, for one, mean to fulfil it, because I will not violate 
the faith of the Government. 

New, as to California and New Mexico, I hold slavery 
to be excluded from those Territories by a law even superior 
to that which admits and sanctions it in Texas. I mean 
the law of nature, — of physical geography,™ the law of 
the formation of the earth. That law settles forever, with 
a, strength beyond all terms of human enactment, that 
slavery cannot exist in California or New Mexico. Under- 
stand me, sir; I mean slavery as we regard it; slaves in 
gross, of the colored race, transferable by sale and delivery 
like other property. I shall not discuss this point, but I 
leave it to the learned gentlemen who have undertaken to 
discuss it ; but I suppose there is no slave of that descrip- 
tion in California now. I understand that peonism, a sort 
of penal servitude, exists there, or rather a sort of volun- 
tary sale of a man and his offspring for debt, as it is 
arranged and exists in some parts of California and New 
Mexico. But what I mean to say is, that African slavery, 
as we see it among us, is as utterly impossible to find itself, 
or to be found, in Mexico, as any other natural impossi- 
bility. California and New Mexico are Asiatic in their 
formation and scenery. They are composed of vast ridges 
of mountains of enormous height, with broken ridges and 
deep valleys. The sides of these mountains are barren, 
entirely barren, their tops capped by perennial snow. 



286 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

There may be in California, now made free by its Constitu- 
tion, and no doubt there are, some tracts of valuable land. 
But it is not so in New Mexico. Pray, what is the evidence 
which every gentleman must have obtained on this subject, 
from information sought by himself or communicated by 
others ? I have inquired and read all I could find in order 
to obtain information. What is there in New Mexico that 
could by any possibility induce anybody to go there with 
slaves ? There are some narrow strips of tillable land on 
the borders of the rivers ; but the rivers themselves dry up 
before midsummer is gone. All that the people can do is 
to raise some little articles, some little wheat for their 
tortillas, and all that by irrigation. And who expects to 
see a hundred black men cultivating tobacco, corn, cotton, 
rice, or any thing else, on lands in New Mexico made fer- 
tile only by irrigation ? I look upon it, therefore, as a 
fixed fact, — to use an expression current at this day, — that 
both California and New Mexico are destined to be free, so 
far as they are settled at all, which I believe, especially in 
regard to New Mexico, will be very little for a great length 
of time ; free by the arrangement of things by the Power 
above us. I have, therefore, to say, in this respect also, 
that this country is fixed for freedom, to as many persons 
as shall ever live there, by as irrepealable and more irre- 
peaiable a law than the law that attaches to the right of 
holding slaves in Texas ; and I will say further, that if a 
resolution or a law were now before us to provide a terri- 
torial government for New Mexico, I would not vote to put 
any prohibition into it whatever. The use of such a pro- 
hibition would be idle, as it respects any effect it would 
have upon the Territory; and I would not take pains to 
reaffirm an ordinance of Nature, nor to re-enact the will 
of God. And I would put in no Wilmot Proviso for the 
purpose of a taunt or a reproach. I would put into it qo 



ON THE SLAVER? COMPROMISE. 287 

evidence of the votes of superior power, to wound the pride, 
even whether a just pride, a rational pride, or an irrational 
pride — to wound the pride of the gentlemen who belong to 
the Southern States. I have no such object, no such pur- 
pose. They would think it a taunt, an indignity; they 
would think it to be an act taking away from them what 
they regard a proper equality of privilege ; and whether 
they expect to realize any benefit from it or not, they would 
think it a theoretic wrong ; that something more or less de- 
rogatory to their character and their rights had taken place. 
I propose to inflict no such wound upon anybody, unless 
something essentially important to the country, and efficient 
to the preservation of liberty and freedom, is to be effected. 
Therefore, I repeat, sir, and I repeat it because I wish it 
to be understood, that I do not propose to address the 
Senate often on this subject. I desire to pour out all my 
heart in as plain a manner as possible ; and I say, again, 
that if a proposition were now here for a government for 
New Mexico, and it was moved to insert a provision for a 
prohibition of slavery, I would not vote for it. 

Now, Mr. President, I have established, so far as I pro- 
posed to go into any line of observation to establish, the 
proposition with which I set out, and upon which I propose 
to stand or fall ; and that is, that the whole territory of 
the States in the United States, or in the newly-acquired 
territory of the United States, has a fixed and settled cha- 
racter, now fixed and settled by law, which cannot be 
repealed in the case of Texas without a violation of public 
faith, and cannot be repealed by any human power in re- 
gard to California or New Mexico ; that, under one or 
other of these laws, every foot of territory in the States or 
in the Territories has now received a fixed and decided 
cnaracter. 

Sir, if we were now making a government for New 



'2%8 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Mexico, and anybody should propose a Wilmot Proviso, I 
should treat it exactly as Mr. Polk treated that provision 
for excluding slavery from Oregon. Mr. Polk was known 
to be in opinion decidedly averse to the Wilmot Proviso ; 
but he felt the necessity of establishing a government for 
the Territory of Oregon, and though the proviso was there, 
he knew it would be entirely nugatory ; and, since it must 
be entirely nugatory, since it took away no right, no de- 
scribable, no estimable, no weighable or tangible right of 
the South, he said he would sign the bill for the sake of 
enacting a law to form a government in that Territory, and 
let that entirely useless, and, in that connection, entirely 
senseless, proviso remain. For myself, I will say that we 
hear much of the annexation of Canada; and if there be 
any man, any of the Northern Democracy, or any one of 
the Freesoil party, who supposes it necessary to insert a 
Wilmot Proviso in a territorial government for New Mexico, 
that man will of course be of opinion that it is necessary 
to protect the everlasting snows of Canada from the foot 
of slavery by the same overpowering wing of an act of 
Congress. Sir, wherever there is a particular good to be 
done, wherever there is a foot of land to be staved back 
from becoming slave territory, I am ready to assert the 
principle of the exclusion of slavery. I am pledged to it 
from the year 1837 ; I have been pledged to it again and 
again ; and I will perform those pledges ; but I will not do 
a thing unnecessary, that wounds the feelings of others, or 
that does disgrace to my own understanding!:. 

Mr. President, in the excited times in which we live, 
there is found to exist a state of crimination and recrimi- 
nation between the North and South. There are lists of 
grievances produced by each ; and those grievances, real 
or supposed, alienate the minds of one portion of the 
country from the other, exasperate the feelings, subdue 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 289 

the sense c.f fraternal connection, and patriotic love, and 
mutual regard. I shall bestow a little attention, sir, upon 
these various grievances produced on the one side and on 
the other. I begin with the complaints of the South. 
I will not answer, further than I have, the general state- 
ments of the honorable Senator from South Carolina, that 
the North has grown upon the South in consequence 
of the manner of administering this Government, in the 
collecting of its revenues, and so forth. These are dis- 
puted topics, and I have no inclination to enter into them. 
But I will state these complaints, especially one complaint 
of the South, which has, in my opinion, just foundation ; 
and that is, that there has been found at the North, 
among individuals, and among the legislators of the North, 
a disinclination to perform, fully, their constitutional 
duties in regard to the return of persons bound to service, 
who have escaped into the free States. In that respect* 
it is my judgment that the South is right, and the North 
is wrong. Every member of every Northern legislature 
is bound, like every other officer in the country, by oath, 
to support the Constitution of the United States ; and 
this article of the Constitution, which says to these States, 
they shall deliver up fugitives from service, is as binding 
in honor and conscience as any other article. No man 
fulfils his duty in any legislature who sets himself to find 
excuses, evasions, escapes from this constitutional obliga- 
tion. I have always thought that the Constitution ad- 
dressed itself to the legislatures of the States or to the 
States themselves. It says that those persons escaping to 
other States shall be delivered up, and I confess I have 
always been of the opinion that it was an injunction upon 
the States themselves. When it is said that a person 
escaping into another State, and becoming therefore 
within the jurisdiction of that State, shall be delivered up. 



25 



290 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

it seems to me the import of the passage is, that the 
State itself, in obedience to the Constitution, shall cause 
him to be delivered up. That is my judgment. I have 
always entertained that opinion, and I entertain it now. 
But when the subject, some years ago, was before the 
Supreme Court of the United States, the majority of the 
judges held that the power to cause fugitives from ser- 
vice to be delivered up was a power to be exercised under 
the authority of this Government. I do not know, on the 
whole, that it may not have been a fortunate decision. 
My habit is to respect the result of judicial deliberations, 
and the solemnity of judicial decisions. But as it now 
stands, the business of seeing that these fugitives are de- 
livered up resides in the power of Congress and the na- 
tional judicature, and my friend at the head of the judi- 
ciary committee has a bill on the subject now before the 
Senate with some amendments to it, which I propose tc 
support, with all its provisions, to the fullest extent. And 
I desire to call the attention of all sober-minded men, of 
all conscientious men, in the North, of all men who are 
not carried away by any fanatical idea, or by any false 
idea whatever, to their constitutional obligations. I put it 
to all the sober and sound minds at the North, as a ques- 
tion of morals and a question of conscience, What right 
have they, in their legislative capacity, or any other, to 
endeavor to get round this Constitution, to embarrass the 
free exercise of the rights secured by the Constitution to 
the persons whose slaves escape from them ? None at ail ; 
none at all. Neither in the forum of conscience, nor 
before the face of the Constitution, are they justified, in 
my opinion. Of course it is a matter for their considera- 
tion. They probably, in the turmoil of the times, have 
not stopped to consider of this ; they have followed what 
seems to be the current of thought and of motives, as thq 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 291 

occasion arose, and neglected to investigate fully the real 
question, and to consider their constitutional obligations; 
as I am sure, if they did consider, they would fulfil them 
with alacrity. Therefore I repeat, sir, that there is a 
ground of complaint against the North, well founded, 
which ought to be removed, which it is now in the power 
of the different departments of this Government to re- 
move, which calls for the enactment of proper laws author- 
izing the judicature of this Government, in the several 
States, to do all that is necessary for the recapture of 
fugitive slaves, and for the restoration of them to those 
who claim them. Wherever I go, and whenever I speak 
on this subject, — and when I speak here I desire to speak 
to the whole North, — I say that the South has been in- 
jured in this respect, and has a right to complain ; and 
the North has been too careless of what I think the Con- 
stitution peremptorily and emphatically enjoins upon it as 
a duty. 

Complaint has been made against certain resolutions 
th^t emanate from legislatures at the North, and are sent 
here to us, not only on the subject of slavery in this Dis- 
trict, but sometimes recommending Congress to consider 
the means of abolishing slavery in the States. I should 
be very sorry to be called upon to present any resolutions 
here which could not be referable to any committee or any 
power in Congress ; and therefore I should be very un- 
willing to receive from Massachusetts instructions to pre- 
sent resolutions expressing any opinion whatever upon 
slavery as it exists at the present moment in the States, 
for two reasons : because, first, I do not consider that 
the Legislature of Massachusetts has any thing to do with 
it ; and next, I do not consider that I, as her representa- 
tive here, have any thing to do with it. Sir, it has be- 
come, in my opinion, quite too common ; and if the legis- 



292 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTEli. 

latures of the States do not like that opinion, they have 
a great deal more power to put it down than I have to 
uphold it. It has become, in my opinion, quite too com- 
mon a practice for the State legislatures to present resolu- 
tions here on all subjects, and to instruct us here on al 1 
subjects. There is no public man that requires instruction 
more than I do, or who requires information more than I 
do, or desires it more heartily ; but I do not like to have 
it come in too imperative a shape. I took notice, with 
pleasure, of some remarks upon this subject, made the 
other day in the Senate of Massachusetts, by a young 
man of talent and character, from whom the best hopes 
may be entertained. I mean Mr. Hillard. He told the 
Senate of Massachusetts that he would vote for no instruc- 
tions whatever to be forwarded to members of Congress, 
nor for any resolutions to be offered expressive of the 
sense of Massachusetts as to what their members of Con- 
gress ought to do. He said that he saw no propriety in 
one set of public servants giving instructions and reading 
lectures to another set of public servants. To their own 
master all of them must stand or fall, and that master is 
their constituents. I wish these sentiments could become 
more common, a great deal more common. I have never 
entered into the question, and never shall, about the 
binding force of instructions. I will, however, simply say 
this : if there be any matter of interest pending in this 
body while I am a member of it, in which Massachusetts 
lias an interest of her own not adverse to the general 
interest of the country, I shall pursue her instructions 
with gladness of heart, and with all the efficiency which 
I can bring it. But if the question be one which affects 
her interest, and at the same time affects the interest 
of all other States, I shall no more regard her political 
wishes or instructions than I would regard the wishes of * 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 293 

man who might appoint me an arbiter or referee to decide 
some question of important private right, and who might 
instruct me to decide in his favor. If ever there was a 
Government upon earth, it is this Government ; if ever 
there was a body upon earth, it is this body, which should 
consider itself as composed by agreement of all, appointed 
by some, but organized by the general consent of all, 
sitting here under the solemn obligations of oath and con- 
science to do that which they think is best for the good of 
the whole. 

Then, sir, there are these abolition societies, of which 
I am unwilling to speak, but in regard to which I have 
very clear notions and opinions. I do not think them 
useful. I think their operations for the last twenty years 
have produced nothing good or valuable. At the same 
time, I know thousands of them are honest and good men ; 
perfectly well-meaning men. They have excited feelings 
— they think they must do something for the cause of 
liberty, and in their sphere of action they do not see what 
else they can do, than to contribute to an abolition press 
or an abolition society, or to pay an abolition lecturer. 
I do not mean to impute gross motives even to the leaders 
of these societies, but I am not blind to the consequences. 
I cannot but see what mischiefs their interference with the 
South has produced. And is it not plain to every man ? 
Let any gentleman who doubts of that, recur to the de- 
bates in the Virginia House of Delegates in 1832, and he 
will see with what freedom a proposition made by Mr. 
Randolph for the gradual abolition of slavery was dis- 
cussed in that body. Every one spoke of slavery as he 
thought; very ignominious and disparaging names and 
epithets were applied to it. The debates in the House of 
Delegates or. that occasion, I believe, were all published. 
They were read by every colored man who conld read> 

25* 



294 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

and if there were any who could not read, those debates 
were read to them by others. At that time Virginia was 
not unwilling nor afraid to discuss this question, and to let 
that part of her population know as much of it as they 
could learn. That was in 1832. As has been said by 
the honorable member from Carolina, these abolition so- 
cieties commenced their course of action in 1835. It is* 
said — I do not know how true it may be — -that they sent 
incendiary publications into the slave States; at any 
event, they attempted to arouse, and did arouse, a very 
strong feeling ; in other words, they created great agita- 
tion in the North against Southern slavery. Well, what 
was the result? The bonds of the slaves were bound 
more firmly than before : their rivets were more strongly 
fastened. Public opinion, which in Virginia had begun to 
be exhibited against slavery, and was opening out for the 
discussion of the question, drew back and shut itself up in 
its castle. I wish to know whether anybody in Virginia 
can, now, talk as Mr. Randolph, Governor McDowell, and 
others talked there, openly, and sent their remarks to the 
press, in 1832. We all know the fact, and we all know 
the cause ; and every thing that this agitating people have 
done has been, not to enlarge, but to restrain ; not to set 
free, but to bind faster, the slave population of the South. 
That is my judgment. Sir, as I have said, I know many 
abolitionists in my own neighborhood, very honest, good 
people, misled, as I think, by strange enthusiasm; but 
they wish to do something, and they are called on to con- 
tribute, and they do contribute ; and it is my firm opinion 
this day, that within the last twenty years, as much money 
has been collected and paid to the abolition societies, aboli- 
tion presses, and abolition lecturers, as would purchase the 
freedom of every slave man, woman, and child in the 
State of Maryland, and send them all to Liberia. I have 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 295 

no doubt of it. But I have yet to learn that the benevo- 
lence of these abolition societies has at any time taken 
that particular turn. [Laughter.] 

Again, sir, the violence of the press is complained of. 
The press violent ! Why, sir, the press is violent every 
where. There are outrageous reproaches in the North 
against the South, and there -are reproaches in not much 
better taste in the South against the North. Sir, the 
extremists in both parts of this country are violent ; they 
mistake loud and violent talk for eloquence and for reason. 
They think that he who talks loudest reasons the best. 
And this we must expect, when the press is free — as it is 
here, and I trust always will be — for, with all its licen- 
tiousness, and all its evils, the entire and absolute freedom 
of the press is essential to the preservation of govern- 
ment on the basis of a free Constitution. Wherever it 
exists, there will be foolish paragraphs and violent para- 
graphs in the press, as there are, I am sorry to say, foolish 
speeches and violent speeches in both Houses of Congress. 
In truth, sir, I must say that, in my opinion, the vernacu- 
lar tongue of the country has become greatly vitiated, de- 
praved, and corrupted by the style of our Congressional 
debates. [Laughter.] And if it were possible for our 
debates in Congress to vitiate the principles of the people 
as much as they have depraved their taste, I should cry 
out, " God save the Republic !" 

Well, in all this I see no solid grievance ; no grievance 
presented by the South, within the redress of the Govern- 
ment, but the single one to which I have referred ; and 
that is, the want of a proper regard to the injunction of 
the Constitution for the delivery of fugitive slaves. 

There are also complaints of the North against the 
South- I need not go over them particularly. The first 
and "gravest is, that the North adopted the Constitution, 



296 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

recognising the existence of slavery in the States, and 
recognising the right, to a certain extent, of representa- 
tion of the slaves in Congress, under a state of sentiment 
and expectation which do not now exist ; and that, by 
events, by circumstances, by the eagerness of the South 
to acquire territory and extend their slave population, the 
North finds itself — in regard to the influence of the South 
and the North, of the free States and the slave States — 
where it never did expect to find itself when they entered 
the compact of the Constitution. They complain, there- 
fore, that, instead of slavery being regarded as an evil, as 
it was then — an evil which all hoped would be extinguished 
gradually — it is now regarded by the South as an institu- 
tion to be cherished, and preserved, and extended ; an 
institution which the South has already extended to the 
utmost of her power by the acquisition of new territory. 
Well, then, passing from that, everybody in the North 
reads ; and ' everybody reads whatsoever the newspapers 
contain ; and the newspapers — some of them, especially 
those presses to which I have alluded — are careful to 
spread about among the people every reproachful senti- 
ment uttered by any Southern man bearing at all against 
the North ; every thing that is calculated to exasperate, 
to alienate ; and there are many such things, as every- 
body will admit, from the South or some portion of it, 
which are spread abroad among the reading people ; and 
thev do exasperate, and alienate, and produce a most 
mischievous effect upon the public mind at the North. 
Sir, I would not notice things of this sort, appearing in 
obscure quarters ; but one thing has occurred in this de- 
bate which struck me very forcibly. An honorable mem- 
her from Louisiana addressed us the other day on this 
subject. I suppose there is not a more amiable and 
worthy gentleman in this chamber — nor a gentleman. who 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 29? 

would be more slow to give offence to anybody, and he 
did not mean in his remarks to give offence. But what 
did he say ? Why, sir, he took pains to run a contrast 
between the slaves of the South and the laboring people 
of the North, giving the preference in all points of con- 
dition, and comfort, and happiness, to the slaves of the 
South. The honorable member, doubtless, did not sup- 
pose that he gave any offence, or did any injustice. He 
was merely expressing his opinion. But does he know 
how remarks of that sort will be received by the laboring 
people of the North ? Why, who are the laboring people 
of the North ? They are the North. They are the 
people who cultivate their own farms with their own 
hands ; freeholders, educated men, independent men. Let 
me say, sir, that five-sixths of the whole property of the 
North is in the hands of the laborers of the North ; they 
cultivate their farms, they educate their children, they 
provide the means of independence ; if they are not free- 
holders, they earn wages ; these wages accumulate, are 
turned into capital, into new freeholds, and small capital- 
ists are created. That is the case, and such the course 
of things with us, among the industrious and frugal. 
And what can these people think, when so respectable and 
worthy a gentleman as the member from Louisiana under- 
takes to prove that the absolute ignorance and the abject 
slavery of the South is more in conformity with the high 
purposes and destiny of immortal, rational, human beings, 
than the educated, the independent free laborers of the 
North ? There is a more tangible and irritating cause of 
grievance at the North. Free blacks are constantly em- 
ployed in the vessels of the North, generally as cooks 01 
stewards. When the vessel arrives, these free colored men 
are taken on shore by the police or municipal authority, 
imprisoned, and kept in prison, until the vessel is again 



298 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

ready to sail. This is not only irritating, but exceedingly 
inconvenient in practice, and seems altogether impractica- 
ble and oppressive. Mr. Hoar's mission, some time ago, 
to South Carolina, was a well-intended effort to remove 
this cause of complaint. The North think such im- 
prisonments illegal and unconstitutional. As the cases 
occur constantly and frequently, they think it a great 
grievance. 

Now, sir, so far as any of these grievances have their 
foundation in matters of law, they can be redressed, and 
ought to be redressed ; and so far as they have their 
foundation in matters of opinion, in sentiment, in mutual 
crimination and recrimination, all that we can do is, to 
endeavor to allay the agitation, and cultivate a better feel- 
ing and more fraternal sentiments between the South and 
the North. 

Mr. President, I should much prefer to have heard from 
every member on this floor declarations of opinion, that 
this Union should never be dissolved, than the declarations 
of opinion, that, in any case, under the pressure of any 
circumstances, such a dissolution was possible. I hear 
with pain, and anguish, and distress, the word secession, 
especially when it falls from the lips of those who are 
eminently patriotic, and known to the country, and known 
all over the world, for their political services. Secession ! 
Peaceable secession ! Sir, your eyes and mine are never 
destined to see that miracle. The dismemberment of this 
vast country without convulsion ! The breaking up of the 
fountains of the great deep without ruffling the surface ! 
Who is so foolish — I beg everybody's pardon — as to ex- 
pect to see any such thing ? Sir, he who sees these States 
now revolving in harmony around a common centre, expect- 
ing to see them quit their places, and fly off, without con- 
vulsion, may look, the next hour, to see the heavenly bodies 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 299 

rush from their spheres, and jostle against each other in 
the realms of space, without producing the crash of the 
universe. There can be no such thing as a peaceable 
secession. Peaceable secession is an utter impossibility. 
Is the great Constitution under which we live here, cover- 
ing this whole country — is it to be thawed and melted 
away by secession, as the snows on the mountain melt 
under the influence of a vernal sun — disappear almost 
unobserved, and die off? No, sir! No, sir! I will not 
state what might produce the disruption of the States; 
but, sir, I see it as plainly as I see the sun in heaven — I 
see that disruption must produce such a war as I will not 
describe in its twofold character! 

Peaceable secession ! peaceable secession ! The con- 
current agreement of all the members of this great Re- 
public to separate ! A voluntary separation, with alimony 
on one side and on the other ! Why, what would be the 
result ? Where is the line to be drawn ? What States are 
to secede ? What is to remain American ? What am I to 
be ? An American no longer ? Where is the flag of the 
Republic to remain ? Where is the eagle still to tower ? or 
is he to cower, and shriek, and fall to the ground ? Why, 
sir, our ancestors — our fathers and our grandfathers, those 
of them that are yet living amongst us with prolonged 
lives — would rebuke and reproach us; and our children 
and our grandchildren would cry out shame upon us, if we 
of this generation should dishonor these ensigns of the 
power of the Government and the harmony of the Union 
which is every day felt among us with so much joy and 
gratitude. What is to become of the army ? What is to 
become of the navy ? What is to become of the public 
lands ? How is each of the thirty States to defend itself? 
I know, although the idea has not been stated distinctly. 
There is to be a Southern Confederacy. I do not mean, 



BOO SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

when I allude to this statement, that any one seriously 
contemplates such a state of things. I do not mean to say 
that it is true, but I have heard it suggested elsewhere, 
that that idea has originated in a design to separate. I am 
sorry, sir, that it has ever been thought of, talked of, or 
dreamed of, in the wildest flights of human imagination. 
But the idea must be of a separation including the slave 
States upon one side, and the free States on the other. 
Sir, there is not — I may express myself too strongly, per- 
haps, but some things, some moral things, are almost as 
impossible as other natural or physical things ; and I hold 
the idea of a separation of these States, those that are 
free to form one government, and those that are slavehold- 
ing to form another, as a moral impossibility. We could 
not separate the States by any such line, if we were to 
draw it. We could not sit down here to-day, and draw a 
line of separation that would satisfy any five men in the 
country. There are natural causes that would keep and 
tie us together ; and there are social and domestic relations 
which we could not break if we would, and which we should 
not if we could. Sir, nobody can look over the face of 
this country at the present moment — nobody can see where 
its population is the most dense and growing — without 
being ready to admit, and compelled to admit, that ere 
long America will be in the Valley of the Mississippi. 

Well, now, sir, I beg to inquire what the wildest enthu- 
siast has to say on the possibility of cutting off that river, 
and leaving free States at its source and its branches, and 
slave States down near its mouth. Pray, sir, pray, sir, let 
me say to the people of this country, that these things are 
worthy of their pondering and of their consideration. Here, 
sir, are five millions of freemen in the free States north of 
the river Ohio ; can anybody suppose that this population 
can be severed by a line that divides them from the ter 



ON TJ;i: SLAVERY CO M PROMISE. 801 

ritory of a foreign and an alien government, down some- 
where, the Lord knows where, upon the lower banks of the 
Mississippi ? What would become of Missouri ? Will she 
join the arrondissement of the slave States ? Shall the 
man from the Yellow Stone and the Platte River be con- 
nected, in the new Republic, with the man who lives on the 
southern extremity of the Cape of Florida? Sir, I am 
ashamed to pursue this line of remark. I dislike it ; I 
have an utter disgust for it. I would rather hear of natural 
blasts and mildews, war, pestilence, and famine, than to 
hear gentlemen talk of secession. To break up — to break 
up this great Government — to dismember this great country 
— to astonish Europe with an act of folly such as Europe 
for two centuries has never beheld in any Government ! 
No, sir ; no, sir ! There will be no secession. Gentlemen 
are not serious when they talk of secession ! 

Sir, I hear there is to be a convention held at Nashville. 
I am bound to believe, that, if worthy gentlemen meet at 
Nashville in convention, their object will be to adopt coun- 
sels conciliatory — to advise the South to forbearance and 
moderation, and to advise the North to forbearance and 
moderation, and to inculcate principles of brotherly love 
and affection, and attachment to the Constitution of the 
country as it now is. I believe, if the convention meet at 
all, it will be for this purpose ; for certainly, if they meet 
for any purpose hostile to the Union, they have been sin- 
gularly inappropriate in their selection of a place. I 
remember, sir, that when the treaty was concluded between 
France and England at the peace of Amiens, a stern old 
Englishman, and an orator, who disliked the terms of the 
peace as ignominious to England, said in the House of 
Oommons, that, if King William could know the terms of 
that treaty, he would turn in his coffin. Let me commend 
the saying of Mr. Windham, in all its emphasis and in all 

26 



302 SPEECHES OF DAXIEL WEBSTER. 

its force, to any persons who shall meet at Nashville for 
the purpose of concerting measures for the overthrow of 
the Union of this country over the bones of Andrew 
Jackson. 

Sir, I wish to make two remarks, and hasten to a con- 
clusion. I wish to say, in regard to Texas, that if it should 
be hereafter at any time the pleasure of the Government 
of Texas to cede to the United States a portion, larger or 
smaller, of her territory which lies adjacent to New Mexico, 
and north of 34° of north latitude, to be formed into free 
States, for a fair equivalent in money, or in the payment 
of her debt, I think it an object well worthy the considera- 
tion of Congress, and I shall be happy to concur in it 
myself, if I should be in the public councils of the country 
at the time. 

I have one other remark to make. In my observations 
upon slavery, as it has existed in the country, and as it 
now exists, I have expressed no opinion of the mode of its 
extinguishment or amelioration. I will say, however, 
though I have nothing to propose on that subject, because 
I do not deem myself competent as other gentlemen to con- 
sider it, that if any gentleman from the South shall propose 
a scheme of colonization, to be carried on by this Govern- 
ment, upon a large scale, for the transportation of free 
colored people to any colony, or any place in the world, I 
should be quite disposed to incur almost any degree of ex- 
pense to accomplish that object. Nay, sir, following an 
example set here more than twenty years ago, by a great 
man, then a Senator from New York, I would return to 
Virginia — and through her, for the benefit of the whole 
South — the money received from the lands and territories 
ceded by her to this Government, for any such purpose as 
to relieve, in whole or in part, or in any way to diminish 
or deal beneficially with the free colored population of the 



ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 303 

Southern States. I have said that I honor Virginia for 
her cession of this territory. There have been received 
into the treasury of the United States eighty millions of 
dollars, the proceeds of the sales of public lands ceded by 
Virginia. If the residue should be sold at the same rate, 
the whole aggregate will exceed two hundred millions of 
dollars. If Virginia and the South see fit to adopt any 
proposition to relieve themselves from the free people of 
color among them, they have my free consent that the 
Government shall pay them any sum of money out of its 
proceeds which may be adequate to the purpose. 

And now, Mr. President, I draw these observations to a 
close. I have spoken freely, and I meant to do so. I 
have sought to make no display ; I have sought to enliven 
the occasion by no animated discussion ; nor have I at- 
tempted any train of elaborate argument. I have sought 
only to speak my sentiments, fully and at large, being 
desirous, once and for all, to let the Senate know, and to 
let the country know, the opinions and sentiments which 1 
entertain on all these subjects. These opinions are not 
likely to be suddenly changed. If there be any future 
service that I can render to the country, consistently with 
these sentiments and opinions, I shall cheerfully render it. 
If there be not, I shall still be glad to have had an op- 
portunity to disburden my conscience from the bottom of 
my heart, and to make known every political sentiment 
that therein exists. 

And now, Mr. President, instead of speaking of the 
possibility or utility of secession, instead of dwelling in 
these caverns of darkness, instead of groping with those 
ideas so full of ail that is horrid and horrible, let us come 
out into the light of day ; let us enjoy the fresh airs of 
Liberty and Union ; let us cherish those hopes which belong 
to us; let us devote .ourselves to those great objects that 



304 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

are fit for our consideration and our action ; let us i aise 
our conceptions to the magnitude and the importance of 
the duties that devolve upon us ; let our comprehension be 
as broad as the country for which we act, our aspirations 
as high as its certain destiny; let us not be pygmies in a 
case that calls for men. Never did there devolve on any 
generation of men higher trusts than now devolve upon us 
for the preservation of this Constitution, and the harmony 
and peace of all who are destined to live under it. Let us 
make our generation one of the strongest and the brightest 
links in that golden chain which is destined, I fondly 
believe, to grapple the people of all the States to this Con- 
stitution, for ages to come. It is a great popular constitu- 
tional Government, guarded by legislation, by law, by 
judicature, and defended by the whole affections of the 
people. No monarchical throne presses these States to- 
gether ; no iron chain of despotic power encircles them ;• 
they live and stand upon a Government popular in its form, 
representative in its character, founded upon principles of 
equality, and calculated, we hope, to last forever. In all 
its history it has been beneficent ; it has trodden down no 
man's liberty ; it has crushed no State. Its daily respira- 
tion is liberty and patriotism, its yet youthful veins are full 
of enterprise, courage, and honorable love of glory and 
renown. Large before, the country has now, by recent 
events, become vastly larger. This Republic now extends, 
with a vast breadth, across the whole Continent. The two 
great seas of the world wash the one and the other shore. 
We realize, on a mighty scale, the beautiful description of 
the ornamental edging of the buckler of Achilles : 

" Now the broad shield complete the artist crown'd 
With his list hand, and pcmr'd the aoean round ; 
In living silver seena'd the waves to roll, 
And beat the buckler's verge, and bound the whole." 



III. 

SPEECH ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION, 

Delivered in the Rouse of Representatives of the United States, 

January 19, 1823, 



On the 8th of December, 1823, Mr. Webster presented, 
in the House of Representatives, the following resolution : 

" Ilesolved, That provision ought to be made, by law, for 
defraying the expense incident to the appointment of an 
agent or commissioner to Greece, whenever the President 
shall deem it expedient to make such appointment." 

The House having, on the 19th of January, resolved 
itself into a Committee of the Whole, and this resolution 
being taken into consideration, Mr. Webster spoke to the 
following effect : 

I am afraid, Mr. Chairman, that, so far as my part in 
this discussion is concerned, those expectations which the 
public excitement, existing on the subject, and certain 
associations, easily suggested by it, have conspired to raise, 
may be disappointed. An occasion which calls the atten- 
tion to a spot, so distinguished, so connected with interest- 
ng recollections, as Greece, may naturally create something 
of warmth and enthusiasm. In a grave, political discus- 
sion, however, it is necessary that that feeling should be 
chastised. I shall endeavor properly to repress it, although 
it is impossible that it should be altogether extinguished. 
We must, indeed, fly beyond the civilized world, we must 

26* 30* 



306 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

pass the dominion of law, and the boundaries of know- 
ledge ; we must, more especially, withdraw ourselves from 
this place, and the scenes and objects which here surround 
us, if we would separate ourselves, entirely, from the in- 
fluence of ail those memorials of herself which ancient 
Greece has transmitted for the admiration and the benefit 
of mankind. This free form of government, this popular 
assembly, the common council held for the common good, 
where have we contemplated its earliest models ? This 
practice of free debate, and public discussion, the contest 
of mind with mind, and that popular eloquence which, if 
it were now here, on a subject like this, would move tli6 
stones of the Capitol, — whose was the language in which 
all these were first exhibited ? Even the edifice in which 
we assemble, these proportioned columns, this ornamented 
architecture, all remind us that Greece has existed, and 
that we, like the rest of mankind, are greatly her debtors 
But I have not introduced this motion in the vain hope of 
discharging any thing of this accumulated debt of cen- 
turies. I have not acted upon the expectation, that we, 
who have inherited this obligation from our ancestors, 
should now attempt to pay it to those who may seem to 
have inherited from their ancestors a right to receive pay- 
ment. My object is nearer and more immediate. I wish 
to take occasion of the struggle of an interesting and 
gallant people, in the cause of liberty and Christianity, to 
draw the attention of the House to the circumstances 
which have accompanied that struggle, and to the prin- 
ciples which appear to have governed the conduct of the 
great States of Europe in regard to it ; and to the effects 
and consequences of these principles upon the indepen- 
dence of nations, and especially upon the institutions of 
free governments. What I have to say of Greece, there- 
fore, concerns the modern, not the ancient ; the living, and 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 307 

not the dead. It regards her, not as she exists in history, 
triumphant over time, and tyranny, and ignorance ; but as 
she now is, contending against fearful odds for being, and 
for the common privilege of human nature. 

As it is never difficult to recite commonplace remarks, 
and trite aphorisms ; so it may be easy, I am aware, on 
this occasion, to remind me of the wisdom which dictates 
to men a care of their own affairs, and admonishes them, 
instead of searching for adventures abroad, to leave other 
men's concerns in their own hands. It may be easy to call 
this resolution Quixotic, the emanation of a crusading 01 
propagandist spirit. All this, and more, may be readib 
said ; but all this, and more, will not be allowed to fix a 
character upon this proceeding, until that is proved, which 
it takes for granted. Let it first be shown, that, in thi? 
question, there is nothing which can affect the interest, the 
character, or the duty of this country. Let it be proved, 
that we are not called upon by either of these considera- 
tions, to express an opinion on the subject to which the 
resolution relates. Let this be proved, and then it will, 
indeed, be made out, that neither ought this resolution to 
pass, nor ought the subject of it to have been mentioned 
in the communication of the President to us. But, in my 
opinion, this cannot be shown. In my judgment, the sub- 
ject is interesting to the people and the Government of 
this country, and we are called upon, by considerations of 
great weight and moment, to express our opinions upon it. 
These considerations, I think, spring from a sense of our 
own duty, our character, and our own interest. I wish to 
treat the subject on such grounds, exclusively, as are truly 
American; but then, in considering it as an American 
question, I cannot forget the age in which we live, the pre- 
vailing spirit of the age, the interesting questions which 
agitate it. and our own peculiar relation in regard to these 



308 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

interesting questions. Let this be, then, and as far as I 
am concerned I hope it will be, purely an American dis- 
cussion ; but let it embrace, nevertheless, every thing that 
fairly concerns America ; let it comprehend, not merely 
her present advantage, but her permanent interest, her 
elevated character, as one of the free States of the world, 
and her duty toward those great principles, which have 
hitherto maintained the relative independence of nations, 
and which have, more especially, made her what she is. 

At the commencement of the session, the President, in 
the discharge of the high duties of his office, called our 
attention to the subject to which this resolution refers. 
"A strong hope," says that communication, "has been 
long entertained, founded on the heroic struggle of the 
Greeks, that they would succeed in their contest, and re- 
iume their equal station among the nations of the earth. 
It is believed that the whole civilized world takes a deep 
interest in their welfare. Although no power has declared 
in their favor, yet none, according to our information, has 
taken part against them. Their cause and their name 
have protected them from dangers, which might, ere this, 
have overwhelmed any other people. The ordinary cal- 
culations of interest, and of acquisition with a view to 
aggrandizement, which mingle so much in the transactions 
of nations, seem to have had no effect in regard to them. 
From the facts which have come to our knowledge, there is 
good cause to believe that their enemy has lost, forever, all 
dominion over them ; that Greece will become again an 
independent nation." 

It has appeared to me, that the House should adopt 
some resolution, reciprocating these sentiments so far as it 
should approve them. More than twenty years have 
elapsed, since Congress first ceased to receive such a com- 
munication from the President, as could properly be made 



UN THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 309 

the subject of a general answer. I do not mean to find 
fault with this relinquishment of a former, and an ancient 
practice. It may have been attended with inconveniences 
which justified its abolition. But, certainly, there was 
one advantage belonging to it ; and that is, that it fur- 
nished a fit opportunity for the expression of the opinion 
of the Houses of Congress, upon those topics in the 
executive communication, which were not expected to be 
made the immediate subjects of direct legislation. Since, 
therefore, the President's message does not now receive a 
general answer, it has seemed to me to be proper, that in 
some mode, agreeable to our own usual form of proceed- 
ing, we should express our sentiments upon the important 
and interesting topics on which it treats. 

If the sentiments of the message in respect to Greece 
be proper, it is equally proper that this House should re- 
ciprocate those sentiments. The present resolution is 
designed to have that extent, and no more. If it pass, it 
will leave any future proceeding where it now is, in the 
discretion of the Executive Government. It Is but an ex- 
pression, under those forms in which the House is ac- 
customed to act, of the satisfaction of the House with the 
general sentiments expressed in regard to this subject in 
the message, and of its readiness to defray the expense in- 
cident to any inquiry for the purpose of further informa- 
tion, or any other agency which the President, in his 
discretion, shall see fit, in whatever manner, and at what- 
ever time, to institute. The whole matter is still left in 
his judgment, and this resolution can in no way restrain 
its unlimited exercise. 

I might well, Mr. Chairman, avoid the responsibility 
of this measure, if it had, in my judgment, any tendency 
to change the policy of the country. With the genera] 
course of that policy 1 am quite satisfied. The nation is 



.310 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

prosperous, peaceful, and happy; and I should very re 
luctantly put its peace, prosperity, or happiness, at risk. 
It appears to me, however, that this resolution is strictly 
conformable to our general policy, and not only consistent 
with our interests, but even demanded by a large and 
liberal view of those interests. 

It is certainly true, that the just policy of this country 
is, in the first place, a peaceful policy. No nation ever 
had less to expect from forcible aggrandizement. The 
mighty agents which are working out our greatness, are 
time, industry, and the arts. Our augmentation is by 
growth, not by acquisition ; by internal development, not 
by external accession. No schemes can be suggested to 
us, so magnificent as the prospects which a sober con- 
templation of our own condition, unaided by projects, 
uninfluenced by ambition, fairly spreads before us. A 
country of such vast extent, with such varieties of soil 
and climate ; with so much public spirit and private enter- 
prise ; with a population increasing so much beyond former 
examples, with capacities of improvement not only unap- 
plied or unexhausted, but even, in a great measure, as yet, 
ud explored ; so free in its institutions, so mild in its laws, 
so secure in the title it confers on every man to his own 
acquisitions ; needs nothing but time and peace to carry it 
forward to almost any point of advancement. 

In the next place, I take it for granted, that the policy 
of this country, springing from the nature of our Govern- 
ment, and the spirit of all our institutions, is, so far as it 
respects the interesting questions which agitate the pro- 
mt age, on tlie side of liberal and enlightened senti- 
menls. The age is_ extraordinary; the spirit that actuates 
it, is peculiar and marked; and our own relation to the 
times we live in, Mid to the questions which interest them. 
La equally marked and peculiar. We are placed, by our 



OX THE OKEEK REVOLUTION. 311 

good fortune, and the wisdom and valor of our anustors, 
in a condition in which we can act no obscure part. Be it 
for honor, or be it for dishonor, whatever we dt, is not 
likely to escape the observation of the world. As one of 
the free States among the nations, as a great and rapidly- 
rising republic, it would be impossible for us, if we were 
so disposed, to prevent our principles, our sentiments, and 
our example, from producing some effect upon the opinions 
and hopes of society throughout the civilized world. It 
rests probably with ourselves to determine, whether the 
influence of these shall be salutary or pernicious. 

It cannot be denied that the great political question of 
this age, is that between absolute and regulated govern- 
ments. The substance of the controversy is, whether 
society shall have any part in its own government. 
Whether the form of government shall be that of limited 
monarchy, with more or less mixture of hereditary power, 
or wholly elective, or representative, may perhaps be 
considered as subordinate. The main controversy is be- 
tween that absolute rule, which, while it promises to 
govern well, means nevertheless to govern without con- 
trol, and that regulated or constitutional system, which 
restrains sovereign discretion, and asserts that society may 
claim, as matter of right, some effective power in the 
establishment of the laws which are to regulate it. The 
spirit of the times sets with a most powerful current, in 
favor of these last-mentioned opinions. It is opposed, 
however, whenever and wherever it shows itself, by certain 
of the great potentates of Europe ; and it is opposed on 
grounds as applicable in one civilized nation as in another, 
and which would justify such opposition in relation to 
the United States, as well as in relation to any other 
state or nation, if time and circumstance should render 
such opposition expedient. 



§12 sPEEcnr.s of daxiel v. sr. 

What part it becomes this country to take on a questiuL 
of tliis sort, so far as it is called upon to take any part, 
cannot be doubtful. Our side of this Question is settled 
for us, even without our own volition. Our history, our 
situation, our character, necessarily decide our position 
and our course, before we have even time to ask whether 
we have an 'option. Our place is on the side of free institu- 
tions. From the earliest settlement of these States, their 
inhabitants were accustomed, in a greater or less degree, 
to the enjoyment of the powers of self-government ; and 
for the last half-century, they have sustained systems of 
government entirely representative, yielding to themselves 
the greatest possible prosperity, and not leaving them with- 
out distinction and respect among the nations of the earth. 
This system we are not likely to abandon ; and while we 
shall no further recommend its adoption to other nations, 
in whole or in part, than it may recommend itself by its 
visible influence on our own growth and prosperity, we are, 
nevertheless, interested to resist the establishment of doc- 
trines which deny the legality of its foundations. AVe 
stand as an equal among nations, claiming the full benefit 
of the established international law; and it is our duty to 
oppose, from the earliest to the latest moment, any innova- 
tions upon that code, which shall bring into doubt or ques- 
tion our own equal and independent rights. 

I will now, Mr. Chairman, advert to those pretensions, 
put forth by the Allied Sovereigns of continental Europe, 
which seem to me calculated, if unresisted, to bring into 
disrepute the principles of our Government, and indeed to 
be wholly incompatible with any degree of national inde- 
pendence. I do not introduce these considerations for the 
Bake of top;. I am not about to declaim against crowned 
heads, nor to quarrel with any country for preferring a 
form of government different from our own. The choice 



OX THE (JftE-Efc UEVOLl TION. 313 

(Hiat we exercise for ourselves, I am quite willing to leave 
fclso to others. But it appears to me that the pretensions 
of which I have spoken are wholly inconsistent with the 
independence of nations generally, without regard to the 
question, whether their governments be absolute, mon- 
archical and limited, or purely popular and representa- 
tive. I have a most deep and thorough conviction, that a 
new era has arisen in the world, that new and dangerous 
combinations are taking place, promulgating doctrines, and 
fraught with consequences, wholly subversive, in their ten- 
dency, of the public law of nations, and of the general 
liberties of mankind. Whether this be so, or not, is the 
question which I now propose to examine, upon such 
grounds of information, as the common and public means 
of knowledge disclose. 

Everybody knows that, since the final restoration of the 
Bourbons to the throne of France, the continental powers 
have entered into sundry alliances, which have been made 
public, and have held several meetings or Congresses, at 
which the principles of their political conduct have been 
declared. These things must necessarily have an effect 
upon the international law of the states of the world. If 
Vhat effect be good, and according to the principles of that 
law, they deserve to be applauded. If, on the contrary, 
their effect and tendency be most dangerous, their prin- 
ciples wholly inadmissible, their pretensions such as would 
abolish every degree of national independence, then they 
are to be resisted. 

1 begin, Mr. Chairman, by drawing your attention to the 
treaty, concluded at Paris in September, 1815, between 
Russia, Prussia, and Austria, commonly called the Holy 
Alliance. This singular alliance appears to have originated 
with the Emperor of Russia : for we are informed that a 
fraught of it was exhibited by him, personally, to a pleni 



27 



514 SPEECH l^ OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

potentiary of one of the great powers of Europe, before 
it was presented to the other sovereigns who ultimately 
signed it.* This instrument professes nothing, certainly, 
which is not extremely commendable and praiseworthy. It 
promises only that the contracting parties, both in relation 
to other states, and in regard to their own subjects, will 
observe the rules of justice and Christianity. In confirma- 
tion of these promises, it makes the most solemn and de- 
vout religious invocations. Now, although such an alliance 
is a novelty in European history, the world seems to have 
received this treaty, upon its first promulgation, with 
general charity. It was commonly understood as little or 
nothing more than an expression of thanks for the success- 
ful termination of the momentous contest in which those 
sovereigns had been engaged. It still seems somewhat 
unaccountable, however, that these good resolutions should 
require to be confirmed by treaty. Who doubted, that 
these august sovereigns would treat each other with justice 
and rule their own subjects in mercy ? And what necessity 
was there, for a solemn stipulation by treaty, to insure the 
performance of that, which is no more than the ordinary 
duty of every Government? It would hardly be admitted 
by these sovereigns, that, by this compact, they suppose 
themselves bound to introduce an entire change, or any 
change, in the course of their own conduct. Nothing sub- 
stantially new, certainly, can be supposed to have been 
intended. What principle, or what practice, therefore, 
called for this solemn declaration of the intention of the 
parties to observe the rules of religion and justice ? 

It is not a little remarkable, that a writer of reputation 



* Vide Lord Castlereagh's Speech in the House of Commons, February 
3, 1816. Debutes in Parliament, vol. xxxvi. page 355; where also the 
Treaty may be found at length 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 31 5 

upon the Public Law, described, many years ago, not in- 
accurately, the character of this alliance: I allude to 
Puffendorff. "It seems useless," says he, "to frame any 
pacts or leagues barely for the defence and support of 
universal peace ; for, by such a league, nothing is super- 
added to the obligation of natural law, and no agreement 
is made for the performance of any thing, which the parties 
were not previously bound to perform ; nor is the original 
obligation rendered firmer or stronger by such an addition. 
Men of any tolerable culture and civilization might well 
be ashamed of entering into any such compact, the condi- 
tions of which imply only that the parties concerned shall 
not offend in "any clear point of duty. Besides, we should 
be guilty of great irreverence toward God, should we sup- 
pose that his injunctions had not already laid a sufficient 
obligation upon us to act justly, unless we ourselves volun- 
tarily consented to the same engagement : as if our obliga- 
tion to obey his will depended upon our own pleasure. 

" If one engage to serve another, he does not set it 
down expressly and particularly among the terms and 
conditions of the bargain, that he will not betray nor 
murder him, nor pillage nor burn his house. For the 
same reason, that would be a dishonorable engagement in 
which men should bind themselves to act properly and 
decently, and not break the peace."* 

Such were the sentiments of that eminent writer. How 
nearly he had anticipated the case of the Holy Alliance, 
will appear from comparing his observations with the pre- 
amble to that alliance, which is as follows : 

" In the name of the most Holy and Indivisible Trinity, 
their Majesties the Emperor of Austria, the King of 
Prussia, and the Emperor of Russia," — "solemnly de- ■ 



* Book 2, chap. ii. 



316 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

clare, that the present act has no other object than to 
publish, in the face of the whole world, their fixed resolu- 
tion, both in the administration of their respective States, 
and in their political relations w^h every other Govern- 
ment, to take for their so]e guide the precepts of that 
holy religion, — namely : the precepts of justice, Christian 
charity, and peace, which, far from being applicable only 
to private concerns, must have an immediate influence on 
the councils of princes, and guide all their steps, as being 
the only means of consolidating human institutions, and 
remedying their imperfections." 

This measure, however, appears principally important, 
as it was the first of a series, and was follow'ed afterward 
by others of a more marked and practical nature. These 
measures, taken together, profess to establish two princi- 
ples, which the Allied Powers would enforce, as a part 
of the law of the civilized world; and the establishment 
of which is menaced by a million and a half of bayonets. 

The first of these principles is, that all popular, or 
constitutional rights, are holden no otherwise than as 
grants from the crown. Society, upon this principle, has 
no rights of its own ; it takes good government, when it 
gets it, as a boon and a concession, but can demand 
nothing. It is to live in that favor which emanates from 
royal authority, and if it have the misfortune to lose that 
favor, there is nothing to protect it against any degree of 
injustice and oppression. It can rightfully make no en- 
deavor for a change, by itself; its whole privilege is to 
receive the favors that may be dispensed by the sovereign 
power, and all its duty is described in the single word 
submission. This is the plain result of the principal con- 
tinental Btate papers; indeed, it is nearly the identical text 
of some of t. em. 

The Laybach circular of May, 1821, alleges, "that 



ON THE (JKKKK ftE'VOLUTION. 317 

useful and necessary changes in legislation and administra- 
tion ought only to emanate from the free will and in- 
telligent conviction of those whom God has- rendered 
responsible for power ; all that deviates from this line 
necessarily leads to disorder, commotions, and evils, far 
more insufferable than those which they pretend to 
remedy."* Now, sir, this principle would carry Europe 
back again, at once, into the middle of the dark ages. It 
is the old doctrine of the divine right of kings, advanced 
now by new advocates, and sustained by a formidable 
array of power. That the people hold their fundamental 
privileges, as matter of concession or indulgence, from the 
sovereign power, is a sentiment not easy to be diffused in 
this age, any further than it is enforced by the direct 
operation of military means. It is true, certainly, that 
some six centuries ago, the early founders of English 
liberty called the instrument which secured their rights a 
Charter ; it was, indeed, a concession ; they had obtained 
it, sword in hand, from the king; and, in many other 
cases, whatever was obtained, favorable to human rights, 
from the tyranny and despotism of the feudal sovereigns, 
was called by the names of privileges and liberties, as 
being matter of special favor. And, though we retain 
this language at the present time, the principle itself 
belongs to ages that have long passed by us. The civilized 
world has done with the enormous faith, of many made for 
one. Society asserts its own rights, and alleges them to 
be original, sacred, and unalienable. It is not satisfied 
with having kind masters ; it demands a participation in 
its own government: and, in states much advanced in 
civilization, it urges this demand with a constancy and au 
energy, that cannot well, nor long, be resisted. There 



* Annual Register, for 1821. 

27* 



318 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

are, happily, enough of regulated Governments in the world, 
and those among the most distinguished, to operate as 
constant examples, and to keep alive an unceasing panting 
in the bosoms of men for the enjoyment of similar free 

institutions. 

When the English Revolution of 1688 took place, the 
English people did not content themselves with the ex- 
ample of Runnymede ; they did not build their hopes 
upon royal charters ; they did not, like the Laybach cir- 
cular, suppose that all useful changes in constitutions and 
laws must proceed from those only whom God has rendered 
responsible for power. They were somewhat better in- 
structed in the principles of civil liberty, or at least they 
were better lovers of those principles, than the sovereigns 
of Laybach. Instead of petitioning for charters, they de- 
clared their rights, and, while they offered to the family of 
Orange the crown with one hand, they held in the other 
an enumeration of those privileges which they did not pro- 
fess to hold as favors, but which they demanded and in- 
sisted upon, as their undoubted rights. 

I need not stop to observe, Mr. Chairman, how totally 
hostile are these doctrines of Laybach, to the fundamental 
principles of our Government. They are in direct contra- 
diction : the principles of good and evil are hardly more 
opposite. If these principles of the sovereigns be true. 
we are but in a state of rebellion, or of anarchy, and are 
only tolerated among civilized states because- it has not yet 
been convenient to conform us to the true standard. 

But the second, and, if possible, the still more ob- 
i jtionaljle principle, avowed in these papers, is the right 
of forcible interference in the affairs of other states. A 
fight to control nations in their desire to change their own 
Government, wherever it may be conjectured or pretended 
that such change might furnish an example to the subject* 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. V) 

of other states, is plainly and distinctly asserted. The 
same Congress that made the declaration at Laybach had 
declared, before its removal from Troppau, " That the 
powers have an undoubted right to take a hostile attitude 
in regard to those states in which the overthrow of the 
Government may operate as an example." 

There cannot, as I think, be conceived a more flagrant 
violation of public law, or national independence, than is 
contained in this short declaration. 

No matter what be the character of the Government 
resisted ; no matter with what weight the foot of the op- 
pressor bears on the neck of the oppressed ; if he struggle, 
or if he complain, he sets a dangerous example of resist- 
ance, — and from that moment he becomes an object of 
hostility to the most powerful potentates of the earth. I 
want words to express my abhorrence of this abominable 
principle. I trust every enlightened man throughout the 
world will oppose it, and that, especially, those who, like 
ourselves, are fortunately out of the reach of the bayonets 
that enforce it, will proclaim their detestation of it, in a 
tone both loud and decisive. The avowed object of such 
declarations is to preserve the peace of the world. But by 
what means is it proposed to preserve this peace ? Simply, 
by bringing the power of all the Governments to bear 
against all subjects. Here is to be established a sort of 
double, or treble, or quadruple, or, for aught I know, a 
quintuple allegiance. An offence against one king is to be 
an offence against all kings, and the power of all is to be 
put forth for the punishment of the offender. A right to 
interfere in extreme cases, in the case of contiguous states, 
and where imminent danger is threatened to one by what 
is transpiring in another, is not without precedent in 
modern times, upon what has been called the law of 
vicinage ; and when confined to extreme cases, and limited 



3*20 - DANIEL WEBSTER. 

to a certain extent, it may perhaps be defended upon prin- 
ciples of necessity and self-defence. But to maintain that 
sovereigns may go to war upon the subjects of another 
state to repress an example, is monstrous indeed. What 
is to be the limit to such a principle, or to the practice 
growing out of it? What, in any case, but sovereign 
pleasure is to decide whether the example be good or bad? 
And what, under the operation of such rule, may be 
thought of OUE example f Why are we not as fair objects 
for the operation of the new principle, as any of those who 
may attempt to reform the condition of their Government, 
on the other side of the Atlantic ? 

The ultimate effect of this alliance of sovereigns, for 
objects personal to themselves, or respecting only the per- 
manence of their own power, must be the destruction of 
all just feeling, and all natural sympathy, between those 
who exercise the power of government and those who are 
subject to it. The old channels of mutual regard and con- 
fidence are to be dried up, or cut off. Obedience can now 
be expected no longer than it is enforced. Instead of 
relying on the affections of the governed, sovereigns are to 
rely on the affections and friendship of other sovereigns. 
There are, in short, no longer to be nations. Princes and 
people no longer are to unite for interests common to them 
both. There is to be an end of all patriotism, as a distinct 
national feeling. Society is to be divided horizontally ; 
all sovereigns above, and all subjects below ; the former 
coalescing for their own security, and for the more certain 
subjection of the undistinguished multitude beneath. This, 
sir, is no picture, drawn by imagination. I have hardly 
used language stronger than that in which the authors of 
this new system have commented on their own work. Mr. 
Chateaubriand, in his speech in the French Chamber of 
Deputies, in February last, declared, that lie had a con 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 321 

ference with the Emperor of Russia at Verona, in which 
that august sovereign uttered sentiments which appeared 
to him so precious, that he immediately hastened home, 
and wrote them down while vet fresh in his recollection. 
" The Emperor declared" said he, " that there can no 
longer be such a thing as an English, French, Russian, 
Prussian, or Austrian policy : there is henceforth but one 
policy, which, for the safety of all, should be adopted both 
by people and kings. It was for me first to show myself 
convinced of the principles upon which I founded the 
alliance ; an occasion offered itself ; the rising in Grreece. 
Nothing certainly could occur more for my interests, for 
the interests of my people, nothing more acceptable to my 
country, than a religio.us war in Turkey: but I have 
thought I perceived in the troubles of the Morea, the sign 
of revolution, and I have held back. Providence lias not 
put under my command 800,000 soldiers, to satisfy my 
ambition, but to protect religion, morality, and justice, and 
to secure the prevalence of those principles of order on 
which human society rests. It may well be permitted that 
kings may have public alliances to defend themselves 
against secret enemies." 

These, sir, are the words which the French minister 
thought so important as that they deserved to be recorded ; 
and I, too, sir, am of the same opinion. But, if it be true 
that there is hereafter to be neither a Russian policy, nor 
a Prussian policy, nor an Austrian policy, nor a French 
policy, nor even, which yet I will not believe, an English 
policy; there will be, I* trust in God, an American policy. 
If the authority of all these Governments be hereafter to 
be mixed and blended, and to flow in one augmented cur- 
rent of prerogative, over the face of Europe, sweeping 
away all resistance in its course, it will yet remain for us 
to secure our own happiness, by the preservation of our 



322 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

own principles; which I hope we shall have the manliness 
to express on all proper occasions, and the spirit to defend 
in every extremity. The end and scope of this amalga- 
mated policy is neither more nor less than this : to inter- 
fere, by force, for any Government, against any people who 
may resist it. Be the state of the people what it may, 
they shall not rise ; be the Government what it will, it 
shall not he opposed. The practical commentary has cor- 
responded with the plain language of the text. Look at 
Spain, and at Greece. If men may not resist the Spanish 
inquisition, and the Turkish scimetar, what is there to which 
humanity must not submit? Stronger cases can never 
arise. Is it not proper for us, at all times — is. it not our 
duty, at this time, to come forth, and deny, and condemn, 
these monstrous principles? Where, but here, and in one 
other place, are they likely to be resisted ? They are ad- 
vanced with equal coolness and boldness; and they are 
supported by immense power. The timid will shrink and 
give way — and many of the brave may be compelled to 
yield to force. Human liberty may yet, perhaps, be 
obliged to repose its principal hopes on the intelligence 
and the vigor of the Saxon race. As far as depends on 
us, at least, I trust those hopes will not be disappointed ; 
and that, to the extent which may consist with our own 
settled, pacific policy, our opinions and sentiments may be 
brought to act, on the right side, and to the right end, on 
an occasion which is, in truth, nothing less than a mo- 
mentous question between an intelligent age, full of know- 
ledge, thirsting for improvement,' and quickened by a 
thousand impulses, on one side, and the most arbitrary 
pretensions, sustained by unprecedented power, on the 

other. 

This asserted right of forcible intervention, in the affairs 
other ]>ations, is in open violation of the public law of 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION, 323 

the world. Who has authorized these learned doctors of 
Troppau, to establish new articles in this code ? Whence 
are their diplomas ? Is the whole world expected to ac- 
quiesce in principles, which entirely subvert the indepen- 
dence of nations ? On the basis of this independence has 
been reared the beautiful fabric of international law. On 
the principle of this independence, Europe has seen a 
family of nations, flourishing within its limits, the small 
among the large, protected not always by power, but by a 
principle above power, by a sense of propriety and justice. 
On this principle the great commonwealth of civilized 
states has been hitherto upheld. There have been occa- 
sional departures, or violations, and always disastrous, as 
in the case of Poland ; but, in general, the harmony of 
the system has been wonderfully preserved. In the pro- 
duction and preservation of this sense of justice, this pre- 
dominating principle, the Christian religion has acted a 
main part. Christianity and civilization have labored 
together ; it seems, indeed, to be a law of our human con- 
dition, that they can live and flourish only together. From 
their blended influence has arisen that delightful spectacle 
of the prevalence of reason and principle, over power 
and interest, so well described by one who was an honor to 
the age : 

"And sovereign Law, the world's collected will, 

O'er thrones and globes elate, 
Sits Empress — crowning good, re-pressing ill. 

Smit by her sacred frown, 
The fiend, Discretion, like a vapor, sinks, 

And e'en the all-dazzling crown 
Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks." 

But this vision is past. While the teachers of Laybach 
give the rule, there will be no law but the law of the 
strongest. 



324 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBS'MJi. 

It may now be, required of me to show what interest toe 
have, in resisting this new system. What is it to us, it 
may be asked, upon what principles, or what pretences, 
the European Governments assert a right of interfering 
in the affairs of their neighbors ? The thunder, it may 
be said, rolls at a distance. The wide Atlantic is between 
us and danger ; and, however others may suffer, we shall 
remain safe. 

I think it a sufficient answer to this, to say, that we are 
one of the nations; that we have. an interest, therefore, in 
the preservation of that system of national law and na- 
tional intercourse, which has heretofore subsisted, so bene- 
ficially for all. Our system of government, it should also 
be remembered, is, throughout, founded on principles ut- 
terly hostile to the new code ; and, if we remain undis- 
turbed by its operation, we shall owe our security, either 
to our situation or our spirit. The enterprising character 
of the age, our own active commercial spirit, the great in- 
crease which has taken place in the intercourse between 
civilized and commercial States, have necessarily con- 
nected us with the nations of the earth, and given us a 
high concern in the preservation of those salutary prin- 
ciples, upon which that intercourse is founded. We have 
as clear an interest in international law, as individuals 
have in the laws of society. 

But, apart from the soundness of the policy, on the 
ground of direct interest, we have, sir, a duty, connected 
with this subject, which, I trust, we are willing to perform. 
What do we not owe to the cause of civil and religious 
liberty ? to the principle of lawful resistance ? to the prin- 
ciple that society has a right to partake in its own govern- 
ment ? As the leading Republic of the world, living and 
breathing in these principles, and advanced, by their 
operation, with unequalled rapidity, in our career, shall 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 325 

we give our consent to bring them into disrepute and dis- 
grace ? It is neither ostentation nor boasting, to say, that 
there lie before this country, in immediate prospect, a 
great extent and height of power. "We are borne along 
toward this, without effort, and not always even with a full 
knowledge of the rapidity of our own motion. Circum- 
stances which never combined before, have co-operated in 
our favor, and a mighty current is setting us forward, 
which we could not resist, even if we would, and which, 
while we would stop to make an observation, and take the 
sun, has set us, at the end of the operation, far in advance 
of the place where we commenced it. Does it not become 
us, then, is it not a duty imposed on us, to give our weight 
to the side of liberty and justice — to let mankind know 
that we are not tired of our own institutions — and to pro- 
test against the asserted power of altering, at pleasure, the 
law of the civilized world ? 

But whatever we do, in this respect, it becomes us to do 
upon clear and consistent principles. There is an import- 
ant topic in the message, to which I have yet hardly al- 
luded. I mean the rumored combination of the European 
continental sovereigns, against the new-established free 
states of South America. Whatever position this Govern- 
ment may take on that subject, I trust it will be one which 
can be defended, on known and acknowledged grounds of 
right, The near approach, or the remote, distance, of 
danger, may affect policy, but cannot change principle. 
The same reason that would authorize, us to« protest against 
unwarrantable combinations to interfere between, Spain' 
and her former colonies, would authorize us equally to 
protest, if the same combination were directed against the 
smallest state in. Europe, although our' duty to ourselves, 
our policy, and wisdom, might indicate very different 
courses, as fit to be pursued by us in the two cases. We 

28 



326 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

shall not, I trust, act upon the notion of dividing the 
world with the Holy Alliance, and complain of nothing 
done by them in their hemisphere, if they will not inter- 
fere with ours. At least this would not be such a course 
of policy as I could recommend or support. We have 
not offended, and, I hope, we do not intend to offend, in 
regard to South America, against any principle of na- 
tional independence or of public law. We have done 
nothing, we shall do nothing, that we need to hush up or 
to compromise, by forbearing to express our sympathy 
for the cause of the Greeks, or our opinion of the course 
which other Governments have adopted in regard to them. 
It may, in the next place, be asked, perhaps, Supposing 
all this to be true, what can we do ? Are we to go to war ? 
Are we to interfere in the Greek cause, or any other 
European cause? Are we to endanger our pacific rela- 
tions? No, certainly not. What, then, the question 
recurs, remains for us t If we will not endanger our own 
peace, if we will neither furnish armies, nor navies, to the 
cause which we think the just one, what is there within 
our power ? 

Sir, this reasoning mistakes the age. The time has been, 
indeed, when fleets, and armies, and subsidies, were the 
principal reliances even in the best cause. But, happily 
for mankind, there has arrived a great change in this 
respect. Moral causes come into consideration, in propor 
tion as the progress of knowledge is advanced ; and the 
'public opinion of the civilized world is rapidly gaining an 
ascendency over mere brutal force. It is already able to 
oppose the most formidable obstruction to the progress of 
injustice and oppression ; and, as it grows more intelligent 
and more intense, it will be more and more formidable. It 
may be silenced by military power, but it cannot be con- 
quered. It is elastic, irrepressible, and invulnerable to the 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 327 

weapons of ordinary warfare. It is that impassable, un- 
extinguishable enemy of mere violence and arbitrary rule, 
which, like Milton's angels, 

"Vital in every part, 
Cannot, but by annihilating, die." 

Until this be propitiated or satisfied, it is vain for power 
to talk either of triumphs or of repose, no matter what 
fields are desolated, what fortresses surrendered, what 
armies subdued, or what provinces overrun. In the history 
of the year that has passed by us, and in the instance of 
unhappy Spain, we have seen the vanity of all triumphs 
in a cause which violates the general sense of justice of the 
civilized world. It is nothing that the troops of France 
have passed from the Pyrenees to Cadiz ; it is nothing that 
an unhappy and prostrate nation has fallen before them ; 
it is nothing that arrests, and confiscation, and execution, 
sweep away the little remnant of national resistance. There 
is an enemy that still exists to check the glory of these 
triumphs. It follows the conqueror back to the very scene 
of his ovations ; it calls upon him to take notice that 
Europe, though silent, is yet indignant ; it shows him that 
the sceptre of his victory is a barren sceptre ; that it shall 
confer neither joy nor honor, but shall moulder to dry 
ashes in his grasp. In the midst of his exultation, it 
pierces his ear with the cry of injured justice, it denounces 
against him the indignation of an enlightened and civilized 
age ; it turns to bitterness the cup of his rejoicing, and 
wounds him with the sting which belongs to the conscious- 
ness of having outraged the opinion of mankind. 

In my own opinion, sir, the Spanish nation is now nearer, 
not only in point of time, but in point of circumstance, to 
the acquisition of a regulated Government, than at the 
moment of the French invasion. Nations must, no doubt, 
undergo these trials in their progress to the establishment 



328 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

of free institutions. The very trials benefit them, and 
render them more capable both of obtaining and of enjoy- 
ing the object which they seek. 

I shall not detain the committee, sir, by laying before it 
any statistical, geographical, or commercial account of 
Greece. I have no knowledge on these subjects, which is 
not common to all. It is universally admitted, that, within 
the last thirty or forty years, the condition of Greece has 
been greatly improved. Her marine is at present respect- 
able, containing the best sailors in the Mediterranean, 
better even, in that sea, than our own, as more accustomed 
to the long quarantines and other regulations which pre- 
vail in its ports. The number ^ f her seamen has been 
estimated as high as 50,000, but I suppose that estimate 
must be much too large. They have probably 150,000 
tons of shipping. It is not easy to state an accurate ac- 
count of Grecian population. The Turkish Government 
does not trouble itself with any of the calculations of 
political economy, and there has never been such a thing 
as an accurate census, probably, in any part of the Turkish 
empire. In the absence of all official information, private 
opinions widely differ. By the tables which have been 
communicated, it would seem that there are 2,400,000 
Greeks in Greece proper and the Islands ; an amount, as I 
am inclined to think, somewhat overrated. There are, 
probably, in the whole of European Turkey, 5,000,000 
Greeks, and 2,000,000 more in the Asiatic dominions of 
that power. The moral and intellectual progress of this 
numerous population, under the horrible oppression which 
crushes it, has been such as may well excite regard. Slaves, 
under barbarous masters, the Greeks have still aspired 
.after the blessings of knowledge and civilization. Before 
the breaking out of the present revolution, they had esta* 
blished schools, and colleges, and libraries, and the press. 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 329 

Wherever, as in Scio, owing to particular circumstances, 
the weight of oppression was mitigated, the natural vivacity 
of the Greeks, and their aptitude for the arts, were dis- 
covered. Though certainly not on an equality with the 
civilized and Christian states of Europe, (and how is it pos- 
sible under such oppression as they endured that they 
should be?) they yet furnished a striking contrast with 
their Tartar masters. It has been well said, that it is not 
easy to form a just conception of the nature of the despotism 
exercised over them. Conquest and subjugation, as known 
among European states, are inadequate modes of expression 
by which to denote the dominion of the Turks. A con- 
quest, in the civilized world, is generally no more than an 
acquisition of a new dominion to the conquering country. 
It does not imply a never-ending bondage imposed upon 
the conquered, a perpetual mark, and opprobrious distinc- 
tion between them and their masters ; a bitter and unbend- 
ing persecution of their religion ; an habitual violation of 
their rights of person and property, and the unrestrained 
indulgence toward them, of every passion which belongs 
to the character of a barbarous soldiery. Yet such is the 
state of Greece. The Ottoman power over them, obtained 
originally by the sword, is constantly preserved by the 
same means. Wherever it exists, it is a mere military 
power. The religious and civil code of the State, being 
both fixed in the Alcoran, and equally the object of an 
ignorant and furious faith, have been found equally inca- 
pable of change. " The Turk," it has been said, "has 
been encamped in Europe for four centuries." He has 
hardly any more participation in European manners, know- 
ledge, and arts, than vhen he crossed the Bo3phorus. But 
this is not the worst of it. The power of the empire is 
fallen into anarchy, and as the principle which belongs to 
the head belongs also to the parts, there are as many 

28* 



330 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

despots as there are pachas, beys, and Visiers. Wars are 
almost perpetual, between the Sultan and some rebellious 
governor of a province ; and in the conflict of these 
despotisms, the people are necessarily ground between the 
upper and the nether millstone. In short, the Christian 
subjects of the Sublime Porte, feel daily all the miseries 
which flow from despotism, from anarchy, from slavery, 
and from religious persecution. If any thing yet remains 
to heighten such a picture, let it be added, that every office 
in the Government is not only actually, but professedly, 
venal ; — the pachalics, the visierates, the cadiships, and 
whatsoever other denomination may denote the depositary 
of power. In the whole world, sir, there is no such op- 
pression felt, as by the Christian Greeks. In various parts 
of India, to-be-sure, the government is bad enough ; but 
then it is the government of barbarians over barbarians, 
and the feeling of oppression is, of course, not so keen. 
There the oppressed are perhaps not better than their op- 
pressors ; but in the case of Greece, there are millions of 
Christian men, not without knowledge, not without refine- 
ment, not without a strong thirst for all the pleasures of 
civilized life, trampled into the very earth, century after 
century, by a pillaging, savage, relentless soldiery. Sir, 
the case is unique. There exists, and has existed, nothing 
like it. The world has no such misery to show ; there is 
no case in which Christian communities can be called upon 
with such emphasis of appeal. 

But I have said enough, Mr. Chairman, indeed, I need 
have said nothing, to satisfy the House, that it must be 
some new combination of circumstances, or new views of 
policy in the cabinets of Europe, which have caused this 
interesting struggle not merely to be regarded with in- 
difference, but to be marked with opprobrium. The very 
statement of the case, as a contest between the Turks and 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 831 

Greeks, sufficiently indicates what must be the feeling of 
every individual, and every Government, that is not 
biassed by a particular interest, or a particular feeling, to 
disregard the dictates of justice and humanity. 

And now, sir, what has been the conduct pursued by the 
Allied Powers, in regard to this contest? When the revo- 
lution broke out, the sovereigns were in Congress at Lay- 
bach ; and the papers of that assembly sufficiently mani- 
fest their sentiments. They proclaimed their abhorrence 
of those " criminal combinations which had been formed 
in the eastern parts of Europe;" and, although it is 
possible that this denunciation was aimed, more particu- 
larly, at the disturbances in the provinces of Wallachia 
and Moldavia, yet no exception is made, from its general 
terms, in favor of those events in Greece, which were 
properly the commencement of her revolution, and which 
could not but be well known at Laybach, before the date 
of these declarations. Now, it must be remembered, that 
Russia was a leading party in this denunciation of the 
efforts of the Greeks to achieve their liberation ; and it 
cannot but be expected by Russia that the world shall also 
remember what part she herself has heretofore acted, in 
the same concern. It is notorious, that within the last 
half-century she has again and again excited the Greeks 
to rebellion against the Porte, and that she has constantly 
kept alive in them the hope that she would, one day, by 
her own great power, break the yoke of their oppressor. 
Indeed, the earnest attention with which Russia has re- 
garded Greece, goes much farther back than to the time I 
have mentioned. Ivan the Third, in 1482, having espoused 
a Grecian princess, heiress of the last Greek emperor, dis- 
carded St. George from the Russian arms, and adopted in 
its stead the Greek two-headed black eagle, which has con- 
tinued in the Russian arms to the present day. In virtue 



832 SPEECH]. DANlEL WEBST-Elt. 

of the same marriage, the Russian princes claimed the 
Greek throne as their inheritance. 

Under Peter the Great, the policy of Russia developed 
itself more fully. In 1696, he rendered himself master 
of Azoph, and in 1698, obtained the right to pass the 
Dardanelles, and to maintain, by that route, commercial 
intercourse with the Mediterranean. He had emissaries 
throughout Greece, and particularly applied himself to 
gain the clergy. He adopted the Labhrum of Constan- 
tine, " In hoc signo vinces ;" and medals were struck, with 
die inscription, " Petrus I Russo-G-rceeorum Imperator." 
In Vatever new direction the principles of the Holy 
AllkTi • d may now lead the politics of Russia, or whatever 
course -..he may suppose Christianity now prescribes to her, 
in rega^ >1 to the Greek cause, the time has been when she 
professed*, ) be contending for that cause, as identified with 
Christiani' y. The white banner under which the soldiers 
of Peter the First usually fought, bore, as its inscription, 
" In the news of the Prince, and for our country " Re- 
lying on the aid of the Greeks, in his war with the Porte, 
he changed th 5 white flag to red, and displayed on it the 
words, " In t'e name of God, and for Christianity." 
The unfortunate issue of this war is well known. Though 
Anne and Elisabeth, the successors of Peter, did not 
possess his active character, they kept up a constant com- 
munication with Greece, and held out hopes of restoring 
the Greek Empire. Catherine the Second, as is well 
known, excited a general revolt in 1769. A Russian fleet 
appeared in the Mediterranean, and a Russian army was 
landed in the Morea. The Greeks in the end were dis- 
gusted by being required to take an oath of allegiance to 
Russia, and the empress was disgusted because they re- 
fused to take it. In 1774, peace was signed between 
Russia and the Porte, and the Greeks of the Morea were 



OX T!!K GREEK REVOJfUTiON, 333 

left to their fate. By this treaty the Porte acknowledged 
the independence of the Khan of the Crimea ; a pre- 
liminary step to the acquisition of that country by Russia. 
It is not unworthy of remark, as a circumstance which 
distinguished this from most other diplomatic transactions, 
that it conceded the right to the cabinet of St. Peters- 
burg, of intervention in the interior affairs of Turkey, in 
regard to whatever concerned the religion of the Greeks. 
The cruelties and massacres that happened to the Greeks 
after the peace between Russia and the Porte, notwith- 
standing the general pardon which had been stipulated 
for them, need not now to be recited. Instead of re- 
tracing the deplorable picture, it is enough to say, that in 
this respect the past is justly reflected in the present. 
The empress soon after invaded and conquered the Crimea, 
and on one of the gates of Kerson, its capital, caused to 
be inscribed, " The road to Byzantium.'''' The present 
emperor, on his accession to the throne, manifested an 
intention to adopt the policy of Catherine the Second as 
his own, and the world has not been right, in all its sus- 
picions, if a project for the partition of Turkey did not 
form a part of the negotiations of Napoleon and Alex- 
ander at Tilsit. 

All this course of policy seems suddenly to be changed. 
Turkey is no longer regarded, it would appear, as an ob- 
ject of partition or acquisition, and Greek revolts have, 
all at once, become, according to the declaration of Lay- 
bach, "criminal combinations." The recent Congress at 
Verona exceeded its predecessor at Laybach, in its de- 
nunciations of the Greek struggle. In the circular of the 
14th of December, 1822, it declared the Grecian resist- 
ance to the Turkish power to be rash and culpable, and 
lamented that " the firebrand of rebellion had been thrown 
into the Ottoman Empire." This rebuke and crimination, 



334 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

we know to have proceeded on those settled principles of 
conduct, which the continental powers had prescribed for 
themselves. The sovereigns saw, as well as others, the 
real condition of the Greeks ; thej knew, as well as 
others, that it was most natural and most justifiable, that 
they should endeavor, at whatever hazard, to change that 
condition. They knew, that they, themselves, or at least 
one of them, had more than once urged the Greeks to 
similar efforts ; that they, themselves, had thrown the 
same firebrand into the midst of the Ottoman Empire. 
And yet, so much does it seem to be their fixed object to 
discountenance whatsoever threatens to disturb the actual 
Government of any country, that, Christians as they were, 
and allied as they professed to be, for purposes most im- 
portant to human happiness and religion, they have not 
hesitated to declare to the world, that they have wholly 
forborne to exercise any compassion to the Greeks, simply 
because they thought that they saw, in the struggles of the 
Morea, the sign of revolution. This, then, is coming to a 
plain, practical result. The Grecian revolution has been 
discouraged, discountenanced, and denounced, for no reason 
but because it is a revolution. Independent of all inquiry 
into the reasonableness of its causes, or the enormity of 
the oppression which produced it ; regardless of the pecu- 
liar claims which Greece possesses upon the civilized world ; 
and regardless of what has been their own conduct toward 
her for a century ; regardless of the interest of the Chris- 
tian religion, the sovereigns at Verona seized upon the 
case of the Greek revolution, as one above all others 
calculated to illustrate the fixed principles of their policy. 
The abominable rule of the Porte on one side, the valor 
and the sufferings of the Christian Greeks on the other, 
furnished a case likely tc convince even an incredulous 
world of the sincerity of the professions of the Allied 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION'. 385 



Powers. They embraced the occasion, with apparent 
ardor ; and the world, I trust, is satisfied. 

We see here, Mr. Chairman, the direct and actual ap- 
plication of that system which I have attempted to de- 
scribe. We see it in the very case of Greece. We learn, 
authentically and indisputably, that the Allied Powers, 
holding that all changes in legislation and administration 
ought to proceed from kings alone, were wholly inexorable 
to the sufferings of the Greeks, and wholly hostile to their 
success. Now it is upon this practical result of the princi- 
ple of the continental powers, that I wish this House to 
intimate its opinion. The great question is a question of 
principle. Greece is only the signal instance of the ap- 
plication of that principle. If the principle be right, if 
we esteem it conformable to the law of nations, if we 
have nothing to say against it, or if we deem ourselves 
unfit to express an opinion on the subject, then, of course, 
no resolution ought to pass. If, on the other hand, we 
see in the declarations of the Allied Powers, principles not 
only utterly hostile to our own free institutions, but hostile 
also to the independence of all nations, and altogether 
opposed to the improvement of the condition of human 
nature : if, in the instance before us, we see a most strik- 
ing exposition and application of those principles, and if 
we deem our own opinions to be entitled to any weight in 
the estimation of mankind ; then, I think, it is our duty 
to adopt some such measure as the proposed resolution. 

It is worthy of observation, sir, that as early as July, 
1821, Baron Strogonoff, the Russian minister at Con- 
stantinople, represented to the Porte, that, if the undis- 
tinguished massacres of the Greeks, both of such as were 
in open resistance, and of those who remained patient in 
their submission, were continued, and should become 4 
settled habit, they would give just cause of war against 



336 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the Porte to all Christian states. This was in 1821. It 
was followed, early in the next year, by that indescribable 
enormity, that appalling monument of barbarian ' cruelty, 
the destruction of Scio ; a scene I shall not attempt to 
describe ; a scene from which human nature shrinks 
shuddering away ; a scene having hardly a parallel in 
the history of fallen man. This scene, too, was quickly 
followed by the massacres in Cyprus ; and all these things 
were perfectly known to the Christian powers assembled 
at Yerona. Yet these powers, instead of acting upon the 
case supposed by Baron Strogonoff, and which, one would 
think, had been then fully made out ; instead of being 
moved by any compassion for the sufferings of the Greeks ; 
these powers, these Christian powers, rebuke their gal- 
lantry, and insult their sufferings, by accusing them of 
"throwing a firebrand into the Ottoman Empire." 

Such, sir, appear to me to be the principles on which 
the continental powers of Europe have agreed hereafter to 
act ; and this, an eminent instance of the application of 
those principles. 

I shall not detain the Committee, Mr. Chairman, by 
an} 7 attempt to recite the events of the Greek struggle, up 
to the present time. Its origin may be found, doubtless, 
in that improved state of knowledge, which, for some 
years, has been gradually taking place in that country. 
The emancipation of the Greeks has been a subject fre- 
quently discussed in modern times. They themselves are 
represented as having a vivid remembrance of the dis- 
tinction of their ancestors, not unmixed with an indignant 
feeling, that civilized and Christian Europe should not, 
ere now, have aided them in breaking their intolerable 
fetters. 

In 1816, a society was founded in Vienna, for the en- 
couragement of Grecian literature. It was connected with 



ON THE GREEK 11 EVOLUTION* 33? 

a similar institution at Athens, and another in Thessaly, 
called the " Gymnasium of Mount Pelion." The treasury 
and general office of the institution was established ai 
Munich. No political object was avowed by these institu- 
tions, probably none contemplated. Still, however, they 
have, no doubt, had their effect in hastening that con- 
dition of things, in which the Greeks felt competent to 
the establishment of their independence. Many young 
men have been, for years, annually sent to the universities 
in the western states of Europe for their education ; and, 
after the general pacification of Europe, many military 
men, discharged from other employment, were ready to 
enter even into so unpromising a service as that of the 
revolutionary Greeks. 

In 1820, war commenced between the Porte and Ali, the 
well-known pacha of Albania. Differences existed also 
with Persia, and with Russia. In this state of things, at; 
the beginning of 1821, an insurrection appears to have 
broken out in Moldavia, under the direction of Alexander 
Ypsilanti, a well-educated soldier, who had been major- 
general in the Russian service. From his character, and 
the number of those who seemed disposed to join him, he 
was supposed to be countenanced by the court of St. 
Petersburg. This, however, was a great mistake, which 
the Emperor, then at Laybach, took an early opportunity 
to rectify. The Porte, it would seem, however, alarmed at 
these occurrences in the northern provinces, caused search 
to be made of all vessels entering the Black Sea, lest arms 
or other military means should be sent in that manner to 
the insurgents. This proved inconvenient to the commerce 
cf Russia, and caused some unsatisfactory correspondence 
between the two powers. It may be worthy of remark, as 
an exhibition of national character, that, agitated by these 
appearances of intestine commotion, the Sultan issued a 

29 



8S5 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTEH. 

proclamation, calling on all true Mussulmans to renounce 
the pleasures of social life, to prepare ar.ms and horses, and 
to return to the manner of their ancestors, the life of the 
plains. The Turk seems to have thought that he had, at 
last, caught something of the dangerous contagion of 
European civilization, and that it was necessary to reform 
his habits, by recurring to the original manners of military 
roving barbarians. 

It was about this time, that is to say, at the commence- 
ment of 1821, that the Revolution burst out in various 
parts of Greece and the Isles. Circumstances, certainly, 
were not unfavorable, as one portion of the Turkish army 
was employed in the war against Ali Pacha in Albania, and 
another part in the provinces north of the Danube. The 
Greeks soon possessed themselves of the open country of 
the Morea, and drove their enemy into the fortresses. Of 
these, that of Tripolitza, with the city, fell into the hands 
of the Greeks, in the course of the summer. Having after 
these first movements obtained time to breathe, it became, 
of course, an early object to establish a government. For 
this purpose delegates of the people assembled, under that 
name which describes the assembly in which we ourselves 
sit, that name which "freed the Atlantic," a Congress. A 
writer, who undertakes to render to the civilized world that 
service which was once performed by Edmund Burke, I 
mean the compiler of the English Annual Register, asks, 
by what authority this assembly could call itself a Congress. 
Simply, sir, by the same authority, by which the people of 
the United States have given the same name to their own 
legislature. We, at least, should be naturally inclined to 
think, not only as far as names, but things also, are con- 
cerned, that the Greeks could hardly have begun their 
revolution under better auspices ; since they have endea- 
vored to render applicable to themselves the general 



ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 839 

principles of our form of government, as well as its name. 
This Constitution went into operation at the commence- 
ment of the next year. In the mean time, the war with 
Ali Pacha was ended, he. having surrendered, and being 
afterward assassinated, by an instance of treachery and 
perfidy, which, if it had happened elsewhere than under 
the government of the Turks, would have deserved notice. 

The negotiation with Russia, too, took a turn unfavor- 
able to the Greeks. The great point upon which Russia 
insisted, besides the abandonment of the measure of search- 
ing vessels bound to the Black Sea, was, that the Porte 
should withdraw its armies from the neighborhood of the 
Russian frontiers ; and the immediate consequence of this, 
when effected, was to add so much more to the disposable 
force ready to be employed against the Greeks. These 
events seemed to have left the whole force of the empire, 
at the commencement of 1822, in a condition to be em- 
ployed against the Greek rebellion ; and, accordingly, very 
many anticipated the immediate destruction or their cause. 
The event, however, was ordered otherwise. Where the 
greatest effort was made, it was met and defeated. Enter- 
ing the Morea with an army which seemed capable of 
bearing down all resistance, the Turks were nevertheless 
defeated and driven back, and pursued beyond the isthmus, 
within which, as far as it appears, from that time to the 
present, they have not been able to set their foot. 

It was in April, of this year, that the destruction of 
Scio took place. That island, a sort of appanage of the 
Sultana mother, enjoyed many privileges peculiar to itself. 
In a population of 130,000 or 140,000, it had no more 
than 2000 or 3000 Turks ; indeed, by some accoifnts, not 
near as many. The absence of these ruffian masters had, 
in some degree, allowed opportunity for the promotion of 
knowledge, the accumulation of wealth, and the general 



340 SPEECHES OF DAXIEL WEBSTER. 

cultivation of society. Here was the seat of the modern 
Greek literature, here were libraries, printing-presses, and 
other establishments, which indicate some advancement in 
refinement and knowledge. Certain of the inhabitants of 
Samos, it would seem, envious of this comparative happi- 
ness of Scio, landed upon the island, in an irregular multi- 
tude, for the purpose of compelling its inhabitants to make 
common cause with their countrymen against their op- 
pressors. These, being joined by the peasantry, marched 
to the city, and drove the Turks into the castle. The 
Turkish fleet, lately reinforced from Egypt, happened to 
be in the neighboring seas, and learning these events, 
landed a force on the island of 15,000 men. There was 
nothing to resist such an army. These troops immediately 
entered the city, and began an indiscriminate massacre. 
The city was fired; and, in four days, the fire and the 
sword of the Turk rendered the beautiful Scio a clotted 
mass of blood and ashes. The details are too shocking to 
be recited. Forty thousand women and children, unhappily 
saved from the general destruction, were afterward sold in 
the market of Smyrna, and sent off into distant and hope- 
less servitude. Even on the wharves of our own cities, it 
has been said, have been sold the utensils of those hearths 
which now exist no longer. Of the whole population which 
I have mentioned, not above 900 persons were left living 
upon the island. I will only repeat, sir, that these tragical 
scenes were as fully known at the Congress of Verona, as 
they are now known to us ; and it is not too much to call 
on the powers that constituted that Congress, in the name 
of conscience, and in the name of humanity, to tell us, if 
there l*e nothing even in these unparalleled excesses of 
Turkish barbarity, to excite a sentiment of compassion ; 
nothing which they regard as so objectionable as even the 
very idea of popular resistance to power. 



ON '• HE GREEK 12 KVuJ.i.'TMX. 34] 

The events of the year which has just passed by, as far 
as they have become known to us, have been even more 
favorable to the Greeks, than those of the year preceding. 
I omit all details, as being as well known to others as to 
myself. Suffice it to say, that with no other enemy to con- 
tend with, and no diversion of his force to other objects, 
the Porte has not been able to carry the war into the 
Morea ; and that, by the last accounts, its armies were 
acting defensively in Thessaly. I pass over also the naval 
engagements of the Greeks, although that is a mode of 
warfare in which they are calculated to excel, and in which 
they have already performed actions of such distinguished 
skill and bravery as would draw • applause upon the best 
mariners in the world. The present state of the war would 
seem to be, that the Greeks possess the whole of the Morea, 
with the exception of the three fortresses of Patras, Coron, 
and Modon ; all Candia, but one fortress ; and most of the 
other islands. They possess the citadel of Athens, Mis- 
solonghi, and several other places in Livadia. They have 
been able to act on the offensive and to carry the war be- 
yond the isthmus. There is no reason to believe their 
marine is weakened ; probably, on the other hand, it is 
strengthened. But, what is most of all important, they 
have obtained time and experience. They have awakened 
a sympathy throughout Europe and throughout America ; 
and they have formed a government which seems suited to 
the emergency of their condition. 

Sir, they have done much. It would be great injustice 
to compare their achievements with our own. We began 
our Revolution already possessed of government, and, 
comparatively, of civil liberty. Our ancestors had, for 
centuries, been accustomed in a great measure to govern 
themselves. They were well acquainted with popular 
elections and legislative assemblies, and the general prin- 

29* 



eiples and practice of free governments. They had little 
else to do than to throw off the paramount authority of the 
parent state. Enough was still left, both of law and of 
organization, to conduct society in its accustomed course, 
and to unite men together for a common object. The 
Greeks, of course, could act with little concert at the be- 
ginning ; they were unaccustomed to the exercise of power, 
without experience, with limited knowledge, without aid, 
and surrounded by nations, which, whatever claims the 
Greeks might seem to have had upon them, have afforded 
them nothing but discouragement and reproach. They 
have held out, however, for three campaigns ; and that, at 
least, is something. Constantinople and the northern pro- 
vinces have sent forth thousands of troops ; they have been 
defeated. Tripoli, and Algiers, and Egypt, have con- 
tributed their marine contingents ; they have not kept the 
ocean. Hordes of Tartars have crossed the Bosphorus ; 
they have died where the Persians died. The powerful 
monarchies in the neighborhood have denounced their 
cause, and admonished them to abandon it, and submit to 
their fate. They have answered them, that, although two 
hundred thousand of their countrymen have offered up 
their lives, there yet remain lives to offer ; and that it is 
the determination of all, "yes, of all," to persevere until 
they shall have established their liberty, or until the power 
of their oppressors shall have relieved them from the burden 
of existence. 

It may now be asked, perhaps, whether the expression 
of our own sympathy, and that of the country, may do 
them good. I hope it may. It may give them courage 
and spirit, it may assure them of public regard, teach them 
that they are not wholly forgotten by the civilized world, 
and inspire them with constancy in the pursuit of their 
great end. At any rate, sir, it appears to me, that the 



ON THE GREEK K EVOLUTION. S4-) 

measure which I have proposed is due to our own cha- 
racter, and called for by our own duty. When we shall 
have discharged that duty, we may leave the rest to the 
disposition of Providence. 

I do not see how it can be doubted, that this measure is 
entirely pacific. I profess my inability to perceive that it 
has any possible tendency to involve our neutral relations. 
If the resolution pass, it is not, necessarily, to be imme- 
diately acted on. It will not be acted on at all, unless, in 
the opinion of the President, a proper and safe occasion 
for acting upon it shall arise. If we adopt the resolution 
to-day, our relations with every foreign state will be to- 
morrow precisely what they now are. The resolution will 
be sufficient to express our sentiments on the subjects to 
which I have adverted. Useful to that purpose, it can be 
mischievous to no purpose. If the topic were properly in- 
troduced into the message, it cannot be improperly intro- 
duced into discussion in this House. If it were proper, 
which no one doubts, for the President to express his 
opinions upon it, it cannot, I think, be improper for us to 
express ours. The only certain effect of this resolution is 
to express, in a form usual in bodies constituted like this, 
our approbation of the general sentiment of the message. 
Do we wish to withhold that approbation ? The resolution 
confers on the President no new power, nor does it enjoin 
on him the exercise of any new duty ; nor does it hasten 
him in the discharge of any existing duty. 

I cannot imagine that this resolution can add any thing 
to those excitements which it has been supposed, I think 
very causelessly, might possibly provoke the Turkish Go- 
vernment to acts of hostility. There is already the mes- 
sage, expressing the hope of success to the Greeks, and 
disaster to the Turks, in a much stronger manner than is 
to be implied from the terms of this resolution. There is 



344 SPEECHES 03? DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the correspondence between the Secretary of State and the 
Greek Agent in London, already made public, in which 
similar wishes are expressed, and a continuance of the 
correspondence apparently invited. I might add to this, 
the unexampled burst of feeling which this cause has ealled 
forth from all classes of society, and the notorious fact 
of pecuniary contributions made throughout the country 
for its aid and advancement. After all this, whoever can 
see cause of danger to our pacific relations from the adop- 
tion of this resolution, has a keener vision than I can 
pretend to. Sir, there is no augmented danger ; there i3 
no danger. The question comes at last to this, whether, 
on a subject of this sort, this House holds an opinion which 
is worthy to be expressed ? 

Even suppose, sir, an Agent or Commissioner were to 
be immediately sent, — a measure which I myself believe 
to be the proper one,— there is no breach of neutrality, 
nor any just cause of offence. Such an agent, of course, 
would not be accredited ; he would not be a public mi- 
nister. The object would be inquiry and information ; 
inquiry, which we have a right to make ; information, 
which we are interested to possess. If a dismemberment 
of the Turkish Empire be taking place, or has already 
taken place ; if a new state be rising, or be already risen, 
in the Mediterranean, who can doubt, that, without any 
breach of neutrality, we may inform ourselves of these 
events, for the government of .our own concerns ? 

The Greeks have declared the Turkish coasts in a state 
of blockade ; may we not inform ourselves whether this 
blockade be nominal or real? And, of course, whether 
it shall be regarded or disregarded ? The greater our 
trade may happen to be with Smyrna, a consideration 
which seems to have alarmed some gentlemen, the greater 
is the reason, in my opinion, why we should seek to be 



OX THE GJIEEK REVOLUTION. 345 

accurately informed of those events which may affect its 
safety. 

It seems to me impossible, therefore, for any reasonable 
man to ima-gine, that this resolution can expose us to the 
resentment of the Sublime Porte. 

As little reason is there for fearing its consequences 
upon the conduct of the Allied Powers. They may, very 
naturally, dislike our sentiments upon the subject of the 
Greek Revolution ; but what those sentiments are, they 
will much more explicitly learn in the President's message 
than in this resolution. They might, indeed, prefer that 
we should express no dissent upon the doctrines which 
they have avowed, and the application which they have 
made of those doctrines to the case of Greece. But I 
trust we are not disposed to leave them in any doubt as to 
our sentiments upon these important subjects. They have 
expressed their opinions, and do not call that expression 
of opinion an interference ; in which respect they are 
right, as the expression of opinion, in such cases, is not 
such an interference as would justify the Greeks in con- 
sidering the powers as at war with them. For the same 
reason, any expression which we may make, of different 
principles and different sympathies, is no interference. 
No one would call the President's message an interference ; 
and yet it is much stronger, in that respect, than this reso- 
lution. If either of them could be construed to be an 
interference, no doubt it would be improper, at least it 
would be so, according to my view of the subject ; for 
the very thing which I have attempted to resist in the 
course of these observations, is the right of foreign inter- 
ference. But neither the message nor the resolution has 
that character. There is not a power in Europe that can 
suppose, that, in expressing our opinions on this occasion, 
we are governed by any desire of aggrandizing ourselves. 



846 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

or of injuring others. We do no more than to maintain 
those established principles, in which we have an interest 
in common with other nations, and to resist the introduc- 
tion of new principles and new rules, calculated to destroy 
the relative independence of states, and particularly hostile 
to the whole fabric of our own Government. 

I close, then, sir, with repeating, that the object of this 
resolution is, to avail ourselves of the interesting occasion 
of the Greek revolution, to make our protest against the 
doctrines of the Allied Powers ; both as they are laid down 
in principle, and as they are applied in practice. 

I think it right too, sir, not to be unseasonable in the 
expression of our regard, and, as far as that goes, in a 
ministration of our consolation, to a long-oppressed and 
now struggling people. I am not of those who would, in 
the hour of utmost peril, withhold such encouragement as 
might be properly and lawfully given, and, when the crisis 
should be past, overwhelm the rescued sufferer with kind- 
ness and caresses. The Greeks address the civilized world 
with a pathos not easy to be resisted. They invoke our 
favor by more moving considerations than can well belong 
to the condition of any other people. They stretch out 
their arms to the Christian communities of the earth, be- 
seeching them, by a generous recollection of their ances- 
tors, by the consideration of their own desolated and 
ruined cities and villages, by their wives and children, sold 
into an accursed slavery, by their own blood, which they 
seem willing to pour out like water, by the common faith, 
and in the Name, which unites all Christians, that they 
would extend to them at lear>t some token of compas- 
sionate regard. 



IV. 

SPEECH ON THE TRIAL OF JOHN F. KNAPP, FOR 
THE MURDER OF JOSEPH WHITE, OF SALEM, 
MASSACHUSETTS. 



I AM little accustomed, gentlemen, to the part which I 
am now attempting to perform. Hardly more than once 
or twice has it happened to me to be concerned, on the 
side of the Government, in any criminal prosecution what- 
ever ; and never, until the present occasion, in any case 
affecting life. 

But I very much regret that it should have been thought 
necessary to suggest to you, that I am brought here to 
" hurry you against the law, and beyond the evidence." 
I hope I have too much regard for justice, and too much 
respect for my own character, to attempt either ; and 
were I to make such attempt, I am sure, that in this court, 
nothing can be carried against the law, and that gentle- 
men, intelligent and just as you are, are not, by any 
power, to be hurried beyond the evidence. Though I 
could well have wished to shun this occasion, I have not 
felt at liberty to withhold my professional assistance, when 
it is supposed that I might be in some degree useful, in 
investigating and discovering the truth, respecting this 
most extraordinary murder. It has seemed to be a duty, 
incumbent on me, as on every other citizen, to do my best, 

and my utmost, to bring to light the perpetrators of this 

347 



348 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

crime. Against the prisoner at the bar, as an individual, 
I cannot have the slightest prejudice. I would not do 
him the smallest injury or injustice. But I do not affect 
to be indifferent to the discovery, and the punishment of 
this deep guilt. I cheerfully share in the opprobrium, 
how much soever it mav be, which is cast on those who 
feel and manifest an anxious concern that all who had a 
part in planning, or a hand in executing, this deed of mid- 
night assassination, may be brought to answer for their 
enormous crime, at the bar of public justice. Gentlemen, 
it is a most extraordinary case. In some respects, it has 
hardly a precedent anywhere ; certainly none in our New 
England history. This bloody drama exhibited no sud- 
denly-excited, ungovernable rage. The actors in it were 
not surprised by any lion-like temptation springing upon 
their virtue, and overcoming it, before resistance could 
begin. Nor did they do the deed to glut savage vengeance, 
or satiate long settled and deadly hate. It was a cool, 
calculating, money-making murder. It was all "hire and 
salary, not revenge." It was the weighing of money 
against life ; the counting out of so many pieces of silver, 
against so many ounces of blood. 

An aged man, without an enemy in the world, in his 
own house, and in his own bed, is made the victim of a 
butcherly murder, for mere pay. Truly, here is a new 
lesson for painters and poets. Whoever shall hereafter 
draw the portrait of murder, if he will show it as it has 
been exhibited in an example, where such example was 
last to have been looked for, in the very bosom of our 
New England society, let him not give it the grim visage 
of Moloch, the brow knitted by revenge, the face black 
with settled hate, and the bloodshot eye emitting livid 
fires of malice. Let him draw, rather, a decorous, smooth- 
faced, bloodless demon ; a picture in repose, rather than in 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. I. KNAPP. 849 

action ; not so much an example of human nature, in its 
depravity, and in its paroxysms of crl/ne, as an infernal 
nature, a fiend, in the ordinary display and development 
of his character. 

The deed was executed with a degree of self-possession 
and steadiness, equal to the wickedness with which it was 
planned. The circumstances, now clearly in evidence, 
spread out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had 
fallen on the destined victim, and on all beneath his roof. 
A healthful old man, to whom sleep was sweet, the first 
sound slumbers of the night held him in their soft but 
strong embrace. The assassin enters, through the window 
already prepared, into an unoccupied apartment. With 
noiseless foot he paces the lonely hall, half lighted by the 
moon ; he winds up the ascent of the stairs, and reaches 
the door of the chamber. Of this, he moves the lock, by 
soft and continued pressure, till it turns on its hinges 
without noise ; and he enters, and beholds his victim be- 
fore him. The room was uncommonly open to the admis- 
sion of light. The face of the innocent sleeper was 
turned from the murderer, and the beams of the moon, 
resting on the gray locks of his aged temple, showed him 
where to strike. The fatal blow is given ! and the victim 
passes, without a struggle or a motion, from the repose of 
sleep to the repose of death ! It i*> the assassin's purpose 
to make sure work ; and he yet plies the dagger, though 
it was obvious that life had been destroyed by the blow 
of the bludgeon. He even raises the aged arm, that he 
may not fad in his aim at the heart, and replaces it again 
over the wounds of the poniard ! To finish the picture, 
he explores the wrist for the pulse ! He feels for it, and 
ascertains that it beats no longer ! It is accomplished ! 
The deed is done ! He retreats, retraces his steps to the 
window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes. 

30 



e\»50 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

He has done the murder— no eye has seen him, no ear 
has heard him ! The secret is his own, and it is safe ! 

Ah, gentleman, that was a dreadful mistake ! Such a 
secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God 
has neither nook nor corner, where the guilty can bestow 
it, and say it is safe. Not to speak of that eye which 
glances through all disguises, and beholds every thing, as 
in the splendor of noon, — such secrets of guilt are never 
safe from detection, even by men. True it is, generally 
speaking, that " murder will out." True it is, that Pro- 
vidence hath so ordained, and doth so govern things, that 
those who break the great law of heaven, by shedding 
man's blood, seldom succeed in avoiding discovery. Es- 
pecially, in a case exciting so much attention as this, 
discovery must come, and will come, sooner or later. A 
thousand eyes turn at once to explore every man, every 
thing, every circumstance, connected with the time and 
place; a thousand ears catch every whisper; a thousand 
excited minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding all 
their light, and ready to kindle the slightest circumstance 
into a blaze of discovery. Meantime, the guilty soul 
cannot keep its own secret. It is false to itself; or 
rather it feels an irresistible impulse of conscience to be 
true to itself. It labors under its guilty possession, and 
knows not what to do with it. The human heart was 
not made for the residence of such an inhabitant. It 
finds itself preyed on by a torment, which it dares not 
acknowledge to God nor man. A vulture is devouring it, 
and it can ask no sympathy or assistance, either from 
heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer 
possesses soon comes to possess him ; and, like the evil 
spirits of which we read, it overcomes him, and leads 
him whithersoever it will. He feels it beating at his 
heart, rising to his throat, and demanding disclosure. 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KXAPP. 351 

He thinks the whole world sees it in his face, reads it in 
his eyes, and almost hears its workings in the very silence 
of his thoughts. It has become his master. It betrays 
his discretion, it breaks down his courage, it conquers his 
prudence. When suspicions, from without, begin to em- 
barrass him, and the net of circumstance to entangle him, 
the fatal secret struggles with still greater violence to 
burst forth. It must be confessed, it will be confessed ; 
there is no refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide 
is confession. 

Much has been said, on this occasion, of the excite- 
ment which has existed, and still exists, and of the 
extraordinary measures taken to discover and punish the 
guilty. No doubt there has been, and is, much excite- 
ment, and strange indeed were it, had it been otherwise. 
Should not all the peaceable and well-disposed naturally 
feel concerned, and naturally exert themselves to bring to 
punishment the authors of this secret assassination ? Was 
it a thing to be slept upon or forgotten ? Did you, gentle- 
men, sleep quite as quietly in your beds after this murder 
as before ? Was it not a case for rewards, for meetings, for 
committees, for the united efforts of all the good, to find 
out a band of murderous conspirators, of midnight ruf- 
fians, and to bring them to the bar of justice and law ? 
If this be excitement, is it an unnatural or an improper 
excitement ? 

It seems to me, gentlemen, that there are appearances 
of another feeling, of a very different nature and character, 
not very extensive I would hope, but still there is too much 
evidence of its existence. Such is human nature, that 
some persons lose their abhorrence of crime, in their 
admiration of its magnificent exhibitions. Ordinary vice 
is reprobated by them, but extraordinary guilt, exquisite 
wickedness, the high flights and poetry of crime, seize on 



852 SPEECHES CkV DANIEL WEBSTER, 

the imagination, and lead them to forget the depths of the 
o-uilt, in admiration of the excellence of the performance, 
or the unequalled atrocity of the purpose. There are those 
in our day, who have made great use of this infirmity of 
our nature, and by means of it done infinite injury to the 
cause of good morals. They have affected not only the 
taste, but I fear also the principles, of the young, the 
heedless, and the imaginative, by the exhibition of inte- 
resting and beautiful monsters. They render depravity 
attractive, sometimes by the polish of its manners, and 
sometimes by its very extravagance, and study to show 
off crime under all the advantages of cleverness and dex- 
terity. Gentlemen, this is an extraordinary murder — but 
it is still a murder. We are not to lose ourselves in wonder 
at its origin, or in gazing on its cool and skilful execution. 
We are to detect and to punish it ; and while we proceed 
with caution against the prisoner, and are to be sure that 
we do not visit on his head the offences of others, we are 
yet to consider that we are dealing with a case of most 
atrocious crime, which has not the slightest circumstance 
about it to soften its enormity. It is murder, deliberate, 
concerted, malicious murder. 

Although the interest in this case may have diminished 
by the repeated investigation of the facts ; still, the addi- 
tional labor which it imposes upon all concerned is not to 
be regretted, if it should result in removing all doubts of 
the oruilt of the prisoner. 

The learned counsel for the prisoner has said truly, that 
it is your individual duty to judge the prisoner,— that it is 
your individual duty to determine his guilt or innocence — 
and that you are to weigh the testimony with candor and 
fairness. But much at the same time has been said, which, 
although it would seem -to have no distinct bearing on the 
trial, cannot be passed over without some notice. 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 353 

A tone of complaint so peculiar has been indulged, as 
would almost lead us to doubt whether the prisoner at the 
bar, or the managers of this prosecution, are now on trial. 
Great pains have been taken to complain of the manner 
of the prosecution. We hear of getting up a case; of 
setting in motion trains of machinery ; of foul testimony ; 
of combinations to overwhelm the prisoner; of private 
prosecutors ; that the prisoner is hunted, persecuted, driven 
to his trial ; that everybody is against him ; and various 
other complaints, as if those who would bring to punish- 
ment the authors of this murder were almost as bad as they 
who committed it. 

In the course of my whole life, I have never heard before, 
so much said about the particular counsel who happened to 
be employed ; as if it were extraordinary, that other counsel 
than the usual officers of the Government should be assist- 
ing in the conducting of a case on the part of the Govern- 
ment. In one of the last capital trials in this county, that 
of Jackman for " the Goodridge robbery," (so called,) I 
remember that the learned head of the Suffolk Bar, Mr. 
Prescott, came down in aid of the officers of the Govern- 
ment. This was regarded as neither strange nor improper. 
The counsel for the prisoner, in that case, contented them- 
selves with answering his arguments, as far as they were 
able, instead of carping at his presence. 

Complaint is made that rewards were offered, in this case, 
and temptations held out to obtain testimony. Are not 
rewards always offered, when great and secret offences are 
committed? Rewards were offered in the case to which I 
have alluded ; and every other means taken to discover the 
offenders, that ingenuity, or the most persevering vigilance, 
could suggest. The learned counsel have suffered their 
zeal to lead them into a strain of complaint, at the manner 
in which the perpetrators of this crime were detected, 

30* 



354: SPEECHES OF Da.MEL WEBSTER. 

almost indicating that they regard it as a positive injury, 
to them, to have found out their guilt. Since no man wit- 
nessed it, since they do not now confess it, attempts to 
discover it are half esteemed as officious intermeddling, and 
impertinent inquiry. 

It is said, that here even a committee of vigilance was 
appointed. This is a subject of reiterated remark. This 
committee are pointed at, as though they had been offi- 
ciously intermeddling with the administration of justice. 
They are said to have been "laboring for months" against 
the prisoner. Gentlemen, what must we do in such a case? 
Are people to be dumb and still, through fear of overdoing ? 
Is it come to this, that an effort cannot be made, a hand 
cannot be lifted, to discover the guilty, without its being 
said, there is a combination to overwhelm innocence ? Has 
the community lost all moral sense ? Certainly, a com 
munity that would not be roused to action, upon an occa- 
sion such as this was, a community which should not deny 
sleep to their eyes, and slumber to their eyelids, till they 
had exhausted all the means of discovery and detection, 
must, indeed, be lost to all moral sense, and would scarcely 
deserve protection from the laws. The learned counse 1 
have endeavored to persuade you, that there exists a pre 
judice against the persons accused of this murder. They 
would have you understand that it is not confined to this 
vicinity alone, but that even the Legislature have caught 
this spirit. That through the procurement of the gentle- 
man, here styled private prosecutor, who is a member of 
the Senate, a special session of this court was appointed 
for the trial of these offenders. That the ordinary move- 
ments of the wheels of justice were too slow for the pur- 
poses devised. — But does not everybody see and know that 
it was matter of absolute necessity to have a special session 
of the court ? When or how could the prisoners have been 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 355 

tried without a special session ? In the ordinary arrange- 
ment of the courts, but one week, in a year, is allotted for 
tne whole court to sit in this county. In the trial of all 
capital offences a majority of the court, at least, are re- 
quired to be present. In the trial of the present case 
alone, three weeks have already been taken up. Without 
such special session, then, three years would not have been 
sufficient for the purpose. It is answer sufficient to all 
complaints on this subject, to say, that the law was drawn 
by the late chief justice himself, to enable the court to 
accomplish its duties ; and to afford the persons accused 
an opportunity for trial without delay. 

Again, it is said, that it was not thought of making 
Francis Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, a principal till 
after the death of Richard Crowninshield, Jun. ; that the 
present indictment is an after- thought — that " testimony 
was got up" for the occasion. It is not so. There is no 
authority for this suggestion. The case of the Knapps 
had not then been before the grand jury. The officers of 
the Government did not know what the testimony would 
be against them. They could not, therefore, have deter- 
mined what course they should pursue. They intended tc 
arraign all as principals, who should appear to have been 
principals ; and all as accessories, who should appear t<? 
have been accessories. All this could be known only 
when the evidence should be produced. 

But the learned counsel for the defendant take a some- 
what loftier flight still. They are more concerned, they 
assure us, for the law itself, than even for their client. 
Your decision, in this case, they say, will stand as a pre- 
cedent. Gentlemen, we hope it will. We hope it will be 
a precedent, both of candor and intelligence, of fairness 
and of firmness ; a precedent of good sense and honest 
purpose, pursuing their investigation discreetly, rejecting 



856 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 

loose generalities, exploring all the circumstances, weigh 
ing each, in search of truth, and embracing and declaring 
the truth, when found. 

It is said, that "laws are made, not for the punishment 
of the guilty, but for the protection of the innocent." 
This is not quite accurate, perhaps, but if so, we hope they 
will be so administered as to give that protection. But 
who are the innocent, whom the law would protect? 
Gentlemen^ Joseph White was innocent. They are inno- 
cent who, having lived in the fear of God, through the 
day, wish to sleep in his peace through the night, in their 
own beds. The law is established, that those who live 
quietly, may sleep quietly; that they who do no harm, 
may feel none. The gentleman can think of none that 
are innocent, except the prisoner at the bar, not yet con- 
victed. Is a proved conspirator to murder, innocent? 
Are the Crowninshields and the Knapps, innocent ? What 
is innocence ? How deep stained with blood, — how reck- 
less in crime, — how deep in depravity, may it be, and yet 
remain innocence ? The law is made, if we would speak 
with entire accuracy, to protect the innocent, by punishing 
the guilty. But there are those innocent, out of court as 
well as in ; — innocent citizens not suspected of crime, as 
well as innocent prisoners at the bar. 

The criminal law is not founded in a principle of ven- 
geance. It does not punish, that it may inflict suffering. 
The humanity of the law feels and regrets every pain it 
causes, every hour of restraint it imposes, and more deeply 
still, every life it forfeits. But it uses evil, as the means 
of preventing greater evil. It seeks to deter from crime, 
by the example of punishment. This is its true, and only 
true main object. It restrains the liberty of the few 
offenders, that the many who do not offend may enjoy 
their own liberty. It forfeits the life of the murderer, that 



ON THE TRML 0=F J. !'. KNAPP. 357 

other murders may not be committed. The law might 
open the jails, and at once set free all persons accused of 
offences, and it ought to do so, if it could be made certain 
that no other offences would hereafter be committed. 
Because it punishes, not to satisfy any desire to inflict 
pain, but simply to prevent the repetition of crimes. 
When the guilty, therefore, are not punished, the law has, 
so far, failed of its purpose ; the safety of the innocent is, 
so far, endangered. Every unpunished murder takes 
away something from the security of every man's life. 
And whenever a jury, through whimsical and ill-founded 
scruples, suffer the guilty to escape, they make themselves 
answerable for the augmented danger of the innocent. 

We wish nothing to be strained against this defendant. 
Why, then, all this alarm ? Why all this complaint 
against the manner in which the crime is discovered ? 
The prisoner's counsel catch at supposed flaws of evidence, 
or bad character of witnesses, without meeting the case. 
Do they mean to deny the conspiracy ? Do they mean to 
deny that the two Crowninshields and the two Knapps 
were conspirators ? Why do they rail against Palmer, 
while they do not disprove, and hardly dispute, the truth 
of any one fact sworn to by him ? Instead of this, it is 
made matter of sentimentality, that Palmer has been pre- 
vailed upon to betray his bosom companions, and to violate 
the sanctity of friendship : again, I ask, why do they not 
meet the case ? If the fact is out, why not meet it ? Do 
they mean to deny that Captain White is dead ? One should 
have almost supposed even that, from some remarks that 
have been made. Do they mean to deny the conspiracy? 
Or, admitting a conspiracy, do they mean to deny only, 
that Frank Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, was abetting 
in the murder, being present, and so deny that he was a 
principal? If a conspiracy is proved, it bears closely 



358 SPEECHES OF DAJSIEL WEBSTER. 

upon every subsequent subject of inquiry. Why don't 
they come to the fact ? Here the defence is wholly indis- 
tinct. The counsel neither take the ground, nor abandon 
it. They neither fly, nor light. They hover. But they 
must come to a closer mode of contest. They must meet 
the facts, and either deny or admit them. Had the 
prisoner at the bar, then, a knowledge of this conspiracy 
or not ? This is the question. Instead of laying out their 
strength in complaining of the manner in which the deed 
is discovered, — of the extraordinary pains taken to bring 
the prisoner's guilt to light ; — would it not be better to 
show there was no guilt ? Would it not be better to show 
his innocence ? They say, and they complain, that the 
community feel a great desire that he should be punished 
for his crimes; — would it not be better to convince you 
that he has committed no crime? 

Gentlemen, let us now come to the case. Your first 
inquiry, on the evidence, will be, — was Captain White mur- 
dered in pursuance of a conspiracy, and was the defendant 
one of this conspiracy ? If so, the second inquiry is, — was 
he so connected with the murder itself as that he is liable 
to be convicted as & principal? The defendant is indicted 
as a principal. If not guilty as such, you cannot convict 
him. The indictment contains three distinct classes of 
counts. In the first, he is charged as having done the 
deed, with his own hand ; — in the second, as an aider and 
abettor to Richard Crowninshield, Jr., who did the deed ;-— 
in the third, as an aider and abettor to some person 
unknown. If you believe him guilty on either of these 
counts, or in either of these ways, you must convict him. 

It may be proper to say, as a preliminary remark, that 
there are two extraordinary circumstances attending this 
trial. One is, that Richard Crowninshield, Jr., the sup- 
posed immediate perpetrator of the murder, since his arrest, 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. Ea KNAPP. 359 

has committed suicide. He has gone to answer before a 
tribunal of perfect infallibility. The other is, that Joseph 
Knapp, the supposed origin and planner of the murder, 
having once made a full disclosure of the facts, Under a 
promise of indemnity, is, nevertheless, not now a witness. 
Notwithstanding his disclosure, and his promise of in- 
demnity, he now refuses to testify. He chooses to return 
to his original state, and now stands answerable himself, 
when the time shall com'e for his trial. These circum- 
stances it is fit you should remember, in your investigation 
of the case. 

Your decision may affect more than the life of this de- 
fendant. If he be not convicted as principal, no one can 
be. Nor can any one be convicted of a participation in 
the crime as accessory. The Knapps and George Crownin- 
shield will be again on the community. This shows the 
importance of the duty you have to perform ; — and to 
remind you of the degree of care and wisdom necessary 
to be exercised in its performance. But certainly these 
considerations do not render the prisoner's guilt any 
clearer, nor enhance the weight of the evidence against 
him. No one desires you to regard consequences in that 
light. No one wishes any thing to be strained, or too far 
pressed against the prisoner. Still, it is fit you should see 
the full importance of the duty devolved upon you. And 
now, gentlemen, in examining this evidence, let us begin at 
the beginning, and see first what we know independent of 
the disputed testimony. This is a case of circumstantial 
evidence. And these circumstances, we think, are full and 
satisfactory. The case mainly depends upon them, and it 
is common that offences of this kind must be proved in 
this way. Midnight assassins take no witnesses. The 
evidence of the facts relied on has been, somewhat sneer- 
ingly, denominated by the learned counsel, u circumstantial 



860 SPEECHES OF DAME1, WEBSIKR. 

stuff" but it is not such stuff as dreams are made of. 
Why does he not rend this stuff? Why does he not tear 
it away, with the crush of his hand? He dismisses it a 
little too summarily. It shall be my business to examine 
this stuff and try its cohesion. 

The letter from Palmer at Belfast, is that no more than 
flimsy stuff? 

The fabricated letters, from Knapp to the committee, 
and Mr. White, are they nothing* but stuff? 

The circumstance, that the housekeeper was away at the 
time the murder was committed, as it was agreed she 
would be, is that, too, a useless piece of the same stuff? 

The facts, that the key of the chamber-door was taken 
out and secreted ; that the window was unbarred and 
unbolted ; are these to be so slightly and so easily dis- 
posed of? 

It is necessary, gentlemen, now to settle, at the com- 
mencement, the great question of a conspiracy. If there 
was none, or the defendant was not a party, then there is 
no evidence here to convict him. If there was a con- 
spiracy, and he is proved to have been a party, then these 
two facts have a strong bearing on others and all the great 
points of inquiry. The defendant's counsel take no dis- 
tinct ground, as I have already said, on this point, neither 
to admit, nor to deny. They choose to confine themselves 
to a hypothetical mode of speech. They say, supposing 
there was a conspiracy, non sequitur, that the prisoner is 
guilty, as principal. Be it so. But still, if there was a 
conspiracy, and if he was a conspirator, and helped to 
plan the murder, this may shed much light on the evidence, 
which goes to charge him with the execution of that plan. 

We mean to make out the conspiracy ; and that the de- 
fendant was a party to it; and then to draw all just 
inferences from these facts. 



OK THE TRIAL OF J. t\ KNAPP. 361 

Let me ask your attention, then, in the first place, to 
fchose appearances, on the morning after the murder, which 
have a tendency to show, that it was done in pursuance of 
a preconcerted plan of operation. What are they ? A man 
was found murdered in his bed. — No stranger had done the 
d ee( i — no one unacquainted with the house had done it. — 
It was apparent, that somebody from within had opened, 
and somebody from without had entered. — There had been 
there, obviously and certainly, concert and co-operation. 
The inmates of the house were not alarmed when the mur- 
der was perpetrated. The assassin had entered, without 
any riot, or any violence. He had found the way prepared 
before him. The house had been previously opened. The 
window was unbarred, from within, and its fastening un- 
screwed. There was a lock on the door of the chamber 
in which Mr. White slept, but the key was gone. It had 
been taken away, and secreted. The footsteps of the 
murderer were visible, out doors, tending toward the win- 
dow. The plank by which he entered the window still 
remained. The road he pursued had been thus prepared 
for him. The victim was slain, and the murderer has es- 
caped. Every thing indicated that somebody from within 
had co-operated with somebody from without. Every thing 
proclaimed that some of the inmates, or somebody, having 
access to the house, had had a hand in the murder. On 
the face of the circumstances, it was apparent, therefore, 
that this was a premeditated, concerted, conspired murder. 
Who then were the conspirators ? If not now found out, 
we are still groping in the dark, and the whole tragedy is 
still a mystery. 

If the Knapps and the Crowninshields were not the con- 
spirators in this murder, then there is a whole set of con- 
spirators yet not discovered. Because, independent of the 
testimony of Palmer and Leighton, independent of all dis* 

31 



362 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

putcd evidence, we know, from uncontro^ erted foots, that 
this murder was, and must have been, the result of concert 
and co-operation, between two or more. We know it was 
not done, without plan and deliberation ; we see, that who- 
ever entered the house, to strike the blow, was favored 
and aided by some one, who had been previously in the 
house, without suspicion, and who had prepared the way. 
This is concert, ihis is co-operation, this is conspiracy. If 
the Knapps and the Crowninshields, then, were not the 
conspirators, who were ? Joseph Knapp had a motive to 
desire the death of Mr. White, and that motive has been 
shown. 

He w r as connected by marriage in the family of Mr. 
White. His wife was the daughter of Mrs. Beckford, 
who w r as the only child of a sister of the deceased. The 
deceased was more than eighty years old, and he bad no 
children. His only heirs were nephews and nieces. He was 
supposed to be possessed of a very large fortune, — which 
would have descended, by law, to his several nephews 
and nieces in equal shares, or, if there was a will, then 
according to the will. But as Captain White had but two 
branches of heirs — the children of his brother Henry 
White, and of Mrs. Beckford — according to the common 
idea each of these branches would have shared one-half 
of Mr. White's property. 

This popular idea is not legally correct. But it is com- 
mon, and very probably was entertained by the parties. 
According to this, Mrs. Beckford, on Mr. White's death 
without a will, would have been entitled to one-half of 
Mr. White's ample fortune ; and Joseph Knapp had 
married one of her three children. There was a will, 
and this w T ill gave the bulk of the property to others ; 
and we learn from Palmer that one part of the design was 
to destroy the will before the murder was committed. 



ON THE TRIAL OP J. F. KNAPP. 363 

There had been a previous will, and that previous will was 
known or believed to have been more favorable than the 
other, to the Beckford family. So that by destroying the 
last will, and destroying the life of the testator at the 
same time, either the first and more favorable will would 
be set up, or the deceased would have no will, which 
would be, as was supposed, still more favorable. But the 
conspirators not having succeeded in obtaining and de- 
stroying the last will, though they accomplished the mur- 
der, but the last will being found in existence and safe, 
and that will bequeathing the mass of the property to 
others, it seemed, at the time, impossible for Joseph 
Knapp, as for any one else, indeed, but the principal 
devisee, to have any motive which should lead to the 
murder. The key which unlocks the whole mystery, is, 
the knowledge of the intention of the conspirators to steal 
the will. This is derived from Palmer, and it explains 
all. It solves the whole marvel. It shows the motive 
actuating those, against whom there is much evidence, but 
who, without the knowledge of this intention, were not 
seen to have had a motive. This intention is proved, as I 
have said, by Palmer ; and it is so congruous with all the 
rest of the case, it agrees so well with all facts and cir- 
cumstances, that no man could well withhold his belief, 
though the facts were stated by a still less credible witness. 
If one, desirous of opening a lock, turns over and tries 
a bunch of keys till he finds one that will open it, he 
naturally supposes he has found the key of that lock. 
So in explaining circumstances of evidence, which are 
apparently irreconcilable, or unaccountable, if a fact be 
suggested, which at once accounts for all, and reconciles 
all, by whomsoever it may be stated, it is still difficult not 
to believe that such fact is the true fact belonging to the 
case. In this respect, Palmer's testimony is singularly 



364 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

confirmed. If he were false, then his ingenuity could not 
furnish us such clear exposition of strange appearing 
circumstances. Some truth, not before known, can alone 
do that. 

When we look back, then, to the state of things im- 
mediately on the discovery of the murder, we see that 
suspicion would naturally turn at once, not to the heirs- 
at-law, but to those principally benefited by the will. 
They, and they alone, would be supposed or seem to have 
a direct object for wishing Mr. White's life to be termi- 
nated. And, strange as it may seem, we find counsel now 
insisting, that if no apology, it is yet mitigation of the 
atrocity of the Knapps' conduct in attempting to charge 
this foul murder on Mr. White, the nephew and principal 
devisee, that public suspicion was already so directed ! 
As if assassination of character were excusable, in pro- 
portion as circumstances may render it easy. Their en- 
deavors, when they knew they were suspected themselves, 
to fix the charge on others, by foul means and by false- 
hood, are fair and strong proof of their own guilt. But 
more of that hereafter. 

The counsel say that they might safely admit, that 
Richard Crowninshield, Jr. was the perpetrator of this 
murder. 

But how could they safely admit that ? If that were 
admitted, every thing else would follow. For why should 
Richard Crowninshield, Jr. kill Mr. White ? He was 
not his heir, nor his devisee ; nor was he his enemy. 
What could be his motive ? If Richard Crowninshield, 
Jr. killed Mr. White, he did it, at some one's procurement 
who himself had a motive. And who, having any motive, 
is shown to have had any intercourse with Richard Crown- 
inshield, Jr. but Joseph Knapp, and this, principally 
through the agency of the prisoner at the bar ? It is the 



on ths: t;u\i, of j. f. knapp. ;jb'f> 

infirmity, the distressing difficulty of the prisoner's case, 
that his counsel cannot and dare not admit what they yet 
cannot disprove and what all must believe. He who 
believes, on this evidence, that Richard Crowninshield, Jr. 
was the immediate murderer, cannot doubt that both the 
Knapps were conspirators in that murder. The counsel, 
cherefore, are wrong, I think, in saying they might safely 
admit this. The admission of so important, and so con- 
nected a fact, would render it impossible to contend 
further against the proof of the entire conspiracy, as we 
state it. 

What, then, was this conspiracy ? J. J. Knapp, Jr., 
desirous of destroying the will, and of taking the life of 
the deceased, hired a ruffian, who, with the aid of other 
ruffians, were to enter the house, and murder him, in his 
own bed. 

As far back as January, this conspiracy began. Endi- 
cott testifies to a conversation with J. J. Knapp, at that 
time, in which Knapp told him that Captain White had 
made a will, and given the principal part of his property 
to Stephen White. When asked how he knew, he said, 
"Black and white don't lie." When asked, if the will 
was not locked up, he said, " There is such a thing as two 
keys to the same lock." And speaking of the then late 
illness of Captain White, he said, that Stephen White 
would not have been sent for, if he had been there. 

^ Hence he appears, that as early as January, Knapp had 
a knowledge of the will, and that he had access to it, by 
means of false keys. This knowledge of the will, and an 
intent to destroy it, appear also from Palmer's testimony, 
— a fact disclosed to him by the other conspirators. He 
says, that he was informed of this by the Crowninshields 
on the 2d of April. But, then, it is said that Palmer is 
not to be credited ; that by his own confession he is a 

31* 



£66 SPEECHES uE E-ANIEL WEBSTER. 

felon ; that he has been in the State prison in Maine ; 
and, above all, that he was an inmate and associate with 
these conspirators themselves. Let us admit these facts. 
Let us admit him to be as bad as they would represent 
him to be ; still, in law, he is a competent witness. How 
else are the secret designs of the wicked to be proved, 
but by their wicked companions, to whom they have dis- 
closed them? The Government does not select its wit- 
nesses. The conspirators themselves have chosen Palmer. 
He was the confidant of the prisoners. The fact, how- 
ever, does not depend on his testimony alone. It is cor- 
roborated by other proof; and, taken in connection with 
the other circumstances, it has strong probability. In 
regard to the testimony of Palmer, generally, — it may be 
said, that it is less contradicted, in all parts of it, either 
by himself or others, than that of any other material 
witness, and that every thing he has told, has been cor- 
roborated by other evidence, so far as it was susceptible 
of confirmation. An attempt has been made to impair 
his testimony, as to his being at the half-way house on the 
night of the murder ; — you have seen with what success. 
Mr. Babb is called to contradict him : you have seen how 
little he knows, and even that not certainly ; for he, him- 
self, is proved to have been in error, by supposing him to 
have been at the half-way house on the evening of the 
9th of April. At that time, Palmer is proved to have 
been at Dustin's in Dan vers. If, then, Palmer, bad as he 
is, has disclosed the secrets of the conspiracy, and has 
told the truth — there is no reason why it should not be 
believed. Truth is truth, come whence it may. 

The facts show, that this murder had been long in agita- 
tion, that it was not a new proposition, on the 2d of 
April; that it had been contemplated for five or six 
week* before. R. Crowninshield was at Wenhom in the 



ON THE XRIA*. UF J. F. KNAPP. 367 

latter part of March, as testified by Starrett. F. Knapp 
was at Danvers, in the latter part of February, as testified 
by Allen. R. Crowninshield inquired whether Captain 
Knapp was about home, when at Wenham. The proba- 
bility is, that they would open the case to Palmer, as a 
new project. There are other circumstances that show it 
to have been some weeks in agitation. Palmer's testi- 
mony as to the transactions on the 2d of April, is cor- 
roborated by Allen, and by Osborn's books. He says 
that F. Knapp came there in the afternoon, and again in 
the evening. So the book shows. He says that Captain 
White had gone out to his farm on that day. So others 
prove. How could this fact, or these facts, have been 
known to Palmer, unless F. Knapp had brought the 
knowledge ? and was it not the special object of this 
visit, to give information of this fact, that they might 
meet him and execute their purpose on his return from 
his farm ? The letter of Palmer, written at Belfast, has 
intrinsic evidence of genuineness. It was mailed at Bel- 
fast, May 13th. It states facts that he could not have 
known, unless his testimony be true. This letter was 
not an after-thought ; it is a genuine narrative. In fact, 
it says, " I know the business your brother Frank was 
transacting on the 2d of April:" how could he have 
possibly known this, unless he had been there ? The 
u $1000, that was to be paid;" where could he have ob- 
tained this knowledge ? The testimony of Endicott, of 
Palmer, and these facts, are to be taken together ; and 
they, most clearly, show that the death of Captain White 
must have been caused by somebody interested in putting 
an end to his life. 

As to the testimony of Leighton- As far as manner of 
testifying goes, he is a bad witness: but it does not follow 
from luis that he is not to be believed. There are some 



368 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

strange things about him. It is strange, that he should 
make up a story against Captain Knapp, the person with 
whom he lived ; — that he never voluntarily told any thing : 
all that he has said is screwed out of him. The story 
could not have been invented by him ; his character for 
truth is unimpeached ; and he intimated to another wit- 
ness, soon after the murder happened, that he knew some- 
thing he should not tell. There is not the least contra- 
diction in his testimony, though he gives a poor account 
of withholding it. He says that he was extremely 
botheredbj those who questioned him. In the main story 
that he relates, he is universally consistent with himself: 
some things are for him, and some against him. Exa- 
mine the intrinsic probability of what he says. See if 
some allowance is not to be made for him, on account of 
his ignorance, with things of this kind. It is said to be 
extraordinary, that he should have heard just so much of 
the conversation and no more ; that he should have heard 
just what was necessary to be proved, and nothing else. 
Admit that this is extraordinary ; still, this does not prove 
it not true. It is extraordinary that you twelve gentle- 
men should be called upon, out of all the men in the 
county, to decide this case : no one could have foretold 
this, three weeks since. It is extraordinary, that the 
first clew to this conspiracy should have been derived 
from information given by the father of the prisoner at 
the bar. And in every case that comes to trial, there are 
many things extraordinary. The murder itself in this 
case is an extraordinary one ' r but still we do not doubt its 
reality. 

It is argued, that this conversation between Joseph and 
Frank, could not have been, as Leighton has testified, be- 
cause they had been together for several hours before, — 
this subject must have been uppermost in their minds, — 



ON THE TRIAL OK J. F. KNAPP. 869 

whereas this appears to have been the commencement of 
their conversation upon it. Now, this depends altogether 
upon the tone and manner of the expression ; upon the 
particular word in the sentence, which was emphatically 
spoken. If he had said, "When did you see Dick, 
Frank ?" — this would not seem to be the beginning of 
the conversation. With what emphasis it was uttered, it 
is not possible to learn ; and therefore nothing can be 
made of this argument. If this boy's testimony stood 
alone, it should be received with caution. And the 
same may be said of the testimony of Palmer. But 
they do not stand alone. They furnish a clew to nume- 
rous other circumstances, which, when known, react in 
corroborating what would have been received with caution, 
until thus corroborated. How could Leighton have made 
up this conversation ? " When did you see Dick ?" " I 
saw him this morning." "When is he going to kill the 
old man ?" " I don't know." " Tell him if he don't do 
it soon, I won't pay him." Here is a vast amount, in 
few words. Had he wit enough to invent this ? There 
is nothing so powerful as truth ; and often nothing so 
strange. It is not even suggested that the story was 
made for him. There is nothing so extraordinary in the 
whole matter, as it would have been for this country boy 
to have invented this story. 

The acts of the parties themselves furnish strong pre- 
sumption of their guilt. What was done on the receipt of 
the letter from Maine ? This letter was signed by Charles 
Grant, Jr., a person not known to either of the Knapps,— 
nor was it known to them that any other person, besides 
the Crowninshields, knew of the conspiracy. This letter, 
by the accidental omission of the word jr., fell into the 
hands of the father, when intended for the son. The 
father carried it to Wenham, where both the sons were* 



S70 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 

They both read it. Fix your eye steadily on this part of 
the circumstantial stuff, which is in the case ; and see 
what can be made of it. This was shown to the two bro- 
thers on Saturday, 15th of May. They, neither of them, 
knew Palmer. And if they had known him, they could 
not have known him to have been the writer of this letter* 
It was mysterious to them, how any one, at Belfast, 
could have had knowledge of this affair. Their conscious 
guilt prevented due circumspection. They did not see the 
bearing of its publication. They advised their father to 
carry it to the committee of vigilance, and it was so car- 
ried. On Sunday following, Joseph began to think there 
might be something in it. Perhaps, in the mean time, he 
had seen one of the Crowninshields. He was apprehensive 
that they might be suspected ; he was anxious to turn 
attention from their family. What course did he adopt to 
effect this ? He addressed one letter, with a false name, 
to Mr. White, and another to the committee ; and to com- 
plete the climax of his folly, he signed the letter addressed 
to the committee, " Grant," — the same name as that 
signed to the letter they then had from Belfast, addressed 
to Knapp. It was in the knowledge of the committee, 
that no person but the Knapps had seen this letter from 
Belfast ; and that no other person knew its signature. It 
therefore must have been irresistibly plain, to them, that 
one of the Knapps must have been the writer of the letter 
they had received, charging the murder on Mr. White. 
Add to this the fact of its having been dated at Lynn, 
and mailed at Salem, four days after it was dated, and 
who could doubt respecting it? Have you ever read, or 
known, of folly equal to this ? Can you conceive of crime 
more odious and abominable ? Merely to explain the 
apparent mysteries of the letter from Palmer, they excite 
the basest suspicions of a man, who, if they were innocent, 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 371 

they had no reason to believe guilty; and wno, if they 
were guilty, they most certainly knew to be innocent. 
Could they have adopted a more direct method of exposing 
their own infamy? The letter to the committee has 
intrinsic marks of a knowledge of this transaction. It 
tells of the time, and the manner in which the murder was 
committed. Every line speaks the writer's condemnation. 
In attempting to divert attention from his family, and to 
charge the guilt upon another, he indelibly fixes it upon 
himself. 

Joseph Knapp requested Allen to put these letters into 
the post-office, because, said he, " I wish to nip this silly 
affair in the bud." If this were not the order of an over- 
ruling Providence, I should say that it was the silliest 
piece of folly that was ever practised. Mark the destiny 
of crime. It is ever obliged to resort to such subterfuges ; 
it trembles in the broad light ; it betrays itself, in seeking 
concealment. He alone walks safely, who walks uprightly. 
Who, for a moment, can read these letters and doubt of 
J. Knapp's guilt ? The constitution of nature is made to 
inform against him. There is no corner dark enough to 
conceal him. There is no turnpike broad enough, or 
smooth enough, for a man so guilty to walk in without 
stumbling. Every step proclaims his secret to every pas- 
senger. His own acts come out, to fix his guilt. In 
attempting to charge another with his otvn crime, he 
writes his own confession. To do away the effect of 
Palmer's letter, signed Grant, he writes his own letter 
and affixes to it the name of Grant. He writes in a dis- 
guised hand ; but how could it happen, that the same 
Grant should be in Salem, that was at Belfast? This has 
brought the whole thing out. Evidently he did it, because 
he has adopted the same style. Evidently he did it, 
because he speaks of the price of blood, and of other cir- 



872 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

cumstances connected with the murder, that no one but a 
conspirator could have known. 

Palmer says he made a visit to the Crowninshields, on 
the 9th of April. George then asked him whether he had 
heard of the murder. Richard inquired whether he had 
heard the music at Salem. They said that they were sus- 
pected, that a committee had been appointed to search 
houses ; and that they had melted up the dagger, the day 
after the murder, because it would be a suspicious circum- 
stance to have found it in their possession. Now, this 
committee was not appointed, in fact, until Friday evening. 
But this proves nothing against Palmer: it does not prove 
that George did not tell him so; it only proves that he 
gave a false reason, for a fact. They had heard that they 
were suspected — how could they have heard this, unless it 
were from the whisperings of their own consciences? 
Surely this rumor was not then public. 

About the 27th of April, another attempt is made by 
the Knapps to give a direction to public suspicion. They 
reported themselves to have been robbed, in passing from 
Salem to Wenham, near Wenham Pond. They came to 
Salem, and stated the particulars of the adventure: they 
described persons,— their dress, size, and appearance, who 
had been suspected of the murder. They would have it 
understood, that the community was infested with a band 
of ruffians, and that they, themselves, were the particular 
objects of their vengeance. Now, this turns out to be all 
fictitious, — all false. Can you conceive of any thing more 
enormous, any wickedness greater, than the circulation of 
such reports ? — than the allegation of crimes, if committed, 
capital? If no such thing — then it reacts, with double 
force, upon themselves, and goes very far to show their 
guilt. How did they conduct on this occasion? did they 
'n:>ke hue and cry? Did they give information that they 



o^ Tin: trim: of j. k. k>\ipp. 37-3 

had been assaulted, that night, at Wenham ? No such 
thing. They rested quietly on that night ; they waited to 
be called on for the particulars of their adventure ; they 
made no attempt to arrest the offenders. This was not 
their object. They were content to fill the thousand 
mouths of rumor — to spread abroad false reports — to 
divert the attention of the public from themselves ; for 
they thought every man suspected them, because they 
knew they ought to be suspected. 

The manner in which the compensation for this murder 
was paid, is a circumstance worthy of consideration. By 
examining the facts and dates, it will satisfactorily appear, 
that Joseph Knapp paid a sum of money to Richard 
Crowninshield in five-franc pieces, on the 24th of April. 
On the 21st of April, Joseph Knapp received five hundred 
five-franc pieces, as the proceeds of an adventure at sea. 
The remainder of this species of currency that came home 
in the vessel, was deposited in a bank at Salem. On 
Saturday, 24th of April, Frank and Richard rode to 
Wenham. They were there with Joseph an hour or more : 
appeared to be negotiating private business. Richard con- 
tinued in the chaise : Joseph came to the chaise and con- 
versed with him. These facts are proved by Hart and 
Leighton, and by Osborn's books. On Saturday evening, 
about this time, Richard Crowninshield is proved to have 
been at Wenham, with another person whose appearance 
corresponds with Frank, by Lummus. Can any one doubt 
this being the same evening ? What had Richard Crownin- 
shield to do at Wenham, with Joseph, unless it were this 
business ? He was there before the murder ; he was there 
after the murder ; he was there clandestinely, unwilling to 
be seen. If it were i*ot upon this business, let it be told 
what it was for. Joseph Knapp could explain it ; Frank 

32 



374 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Knapp might explain it. But they don't explain it ; and 
the inference is against them. 

Immediately after this, Richard passes five-franc pieces ; 
on the same evening, one to Lummus, jive to Palmer; and 
near this time, George passes three or four in Salem. Here 
are nine of these pieces passed by them in four days ; this 
is extraordinary. It is an unusual currency : in ordinary 
business, few men would pass, nine such pieces in the course 
of a year. If they were not received in this way, why not 
explain how they came by them ? Money was not so flush 
in their pockets, that they could not tell whence it came, 
if it honestly came there. It is extremely important to 
them to explain whence this money came ; and they would 
do it if they could. If, then, the price of blood was paid 
at this time, in the presence and with the knowledge of 
this defendant, does not this prove him to have been con- 
nected with this conspiracy ? 

Observe, also, the effect on the mind of Richard, of 
Palmer's being arrested, and committed to prison ; the 
various efforts he makes to discover the fact ; the lowering, 
through the crevices of the rock, the pencil and paper for 
him to write upon ; the sending two lines of poetry, with 
che request that he would return the corresponding lines ; 
the shrill and peculiar whistle — the inimitable exclamations 
of "Palmer! Palmer! Palmer 7" — all these things prove 
how great was his alarm ; they corroborate Palmer's story, 
and tend to establish the conspiracy. 

Joseph Knapp had a part to act in this matter ; he must 
have opened the window, and secreted the key ; he had 
free access to every part of the house ; he was accustomed 
to visit there ; he went in and out at his pleasure ; he 
could do this without being suspected. He is proved to 
have been there the Saturday preceding. 

If all these things, taken in connection, do not prove 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP 375 

that Captain White was murdered in pursuance of a con- 
spiracy — then the case is at an end. 

Savary's testimony is wholly unexpected. He was called 
for a different purpose. When asked who the person was, 
that he saw come out of Captain White's yard between three 
and four o'clock in the morning, — he answered, Frank 
Knapp. I am not clear this is not true. There may be 
many circumstances of importance connected with this, 
though we believe the murder to have been committed 
between ten and eleven o'clock. The letter to Dr. Barstow 
states it to have been done about eleven o'clock-. — it states 
it to have been done with a blow on the head, from a 
weapon loaded with lead. Here is too great a correspond- 
ence with the reality, not to have some meaning to it. Dr. 
Peirson was always of the opinion that the two classes of 
w T ounds were made with different instruments, and by dif- 
ferent hands. It is possible that one class was inflicted 
at one time, and the other at another. It is possible that 
on the last visit, the pulse might not have entirely ceased 
to beat; and then the finishing stroke was given. It is 
said, when the body was discovered, some of the wounds 
weeped, while the others did not. They may have been in- 
flicted from mere wantonness. It was known that Captain 
White was accustomed to keep specie by him in his chamber ; 
this perhaps may explain the last visit. It is proved, that 
this defendant was in the habit of retiring to bed, and 
leaving it afterwards, without the knowledge of his family ; 
perhaps he did so on this occasion. We see no reason to 
doubt the fact ; and it does not shake our belief that the 
murder was committed early in the night. 

What are the probabilities as to the time of the murder ? 
Mr. White was an aged man ; — he usually retired to bed 
at about half-past nine. He slept soundest, in the early 
part of the night ; usually awoke in the middle and latter 



o7 6 SPE EC H E - < i i I) A N J K L \\ K I \8'£ E B . 

part; and his habits were perfectly well known. When 
would persons, with a knowledge of these facts, be most 
likely to approach him ? Most certainly, in the first hour 
of his sleep. This would be the safest time. If seen then, 
going to or from the house, the appearance would be least 
suspicious. The earlier hour would then have been most 
probably selected. 

Gentlemen, I shall dwell no longer on the evidence which 
tends to prove that there was a conspiracy, and that the 
prisoner was a conspirator. All the circumstances concur 
to make out this point. Not only Palmer swears to it, in 
effect, and Leighton. but Allen mainly supports Palmer, 
and Osborn's books lend confirmation, so far as possible 
from such a source. Palmer is contradicted in nothing, 
either by any other witness, or any proved circumstance 
or occurrence. Whatever could be expected to support 
him, does support him. All the evidence clearly manifests, 
I think, that there was a conspiracy ; that it originated 
with J. Knapp ; that defendant became a party to it, and 
was one of its conductors, from first to last. One of the 
most powerful circumstances, is Palmer's letter from Bel- 
fast. The amount of this was, a direct charge on the 
Knapps, of the authorship of this murder. How did they 
treat this charge ? like honest men, or like guilty men ? 
We have seen how it was treated. J. Knapp fabricated 
letters, charging another person, and caused them to be 
put into the post-office. 

I shall now proceed on the supposition, that it is proved 
that there was a conspiracy to murder Mr. White, and 
that the prisoner was party to it. 

The second, and the material inquiry is, was the prisoner 
present at the murder, aiding and abetting therein? 

This leads to the legal question in the case, what does 



UxN THE riUAL 03? J. F. KNAPP. 377 

the law mean, when it says, to charge him as a principal, 
" he must be present aiding and abetting in the murder" ? 

In the language of the late chief-justice, "it is not 
required that the abettor shall be actually upon the spot 
when the murder is committed, or even in sight of the 
more immediate perpetrator of the victim, to make him a 
principal. If he be at a distance, co-operating in the act, 
by watching to prevent relief, or to give an alarm, or to 
assist his confederate in escape, having knoivledge of the 
purpose and object of the assassin, — this in the eye of the 
law is being present, aiding and abetting, so as to make 
him a principal in the murder." 

"If he be at a distance co-operating." This is not a 
distance to be measured by feet or rods ; if the intent to 
lend aid combine with a knowledge that the murder is to 
be committed, and the person so intending be so situate 
that he can by any possibility lend this aid, in any man- 
ner, then he is present in legal contemplation. He need 
not lend any actual aid : to be ready to assist is assisting. 

There are two sorts of murder ; the distinction between 
them it is of essential importance to bear in mind. 
1. Murder in an affray, or upon sudden and unexpected 
provocation ; 2. Murder secretly, with a deliberate, pre- 
cleterminate intention to commit murder. Under the first 
class, the question usually is whether the offence be mur- 
der or manslaughter, in the person who commits the deed. 
Under the second class, it is often a question whether 
others than he who actually did the deed, were present 
aiding and assisting thereto. Offences of this kind ordi- 
narily happen when there is nobody present except those 
who go on the same design. If a riot should happen in 
the court-house, and one should kill another-— this may be 
murder or it may not, according to the intention with 
which it was done, which is always matter of fact to be 



uu ■ 



378 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

collected from the circumstances at the time. But in 
secret murders, premeditated and determined on, there 
can be no doubt of the murderous intention ; there can be 
no doubt, if a person be present, knowing a murder is to 
be done, of his concurring in the act. His being there is 
a proof of his intent to aid and abet ; else why is he 
there? 

It has been contended that proof must be given that the 
person accused did actually afford aid, did lend a hand in 
the murder itself; and without this proof, although he may 
be near by, he may be presumed to be there for an inno- 
cent purpose ; he may have crept silently there to hear 
the news, or from mere curiosity to see what was going 
on. Preposterous ! — absurd ! Such an idea shocks all 
common sense. A man is found to be a conspirator to do 
a murder ; he has planned it ; he has assisted in arranging 
the time, the place, and the means ; and he is found in the 
place, and at the time, and yet it is suggested that he 
might have been there, not for co-operation and concur- 
rence, but from curiosity ! Such an argument deserves no 
answer. It would be difficult to give it one, in decorous 
terms. Is it not to be taken for granted that a man seeks 
to accomplish his own purposes ? When he has planned a 
murder, and is present at its execution, is he there to for- 
ward, or to thwart, his own design ? Is he there to assist, 
or there to prevent? But " curiosity!" He may be 
there from mere "curiosity!" Curiosity to witness the 
success of the execution of his own plan of murder ! The 
very walls of a court-house ought not to stand — the 
plough-share should run through the ground it stands on — 
where such an argument could find toleration. 

It is not necessary that the abettor should actually lend 
a hand — that he should take a part in the act itself; if he 
he present, ready to assist — that is assisting. Some of the 



ON THE THIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 379 

doctrines advanced would acquit the defendant though he 
had gone to the bed-chamber of the deceased — though he 
had been standing by when the assassin gave the blow. 
This is the argument we have heard to-day. [The court 
here said they did not so understand the argument of the 
counsel for defendant. Mr. Dexter said, " the intent and 
power alone must co-operate." Mr. Webster continued :7 
No doubt the law is that being ready to assist is assisting. 
if he has the power to assist, in case of need. And it h 
so stated by Foster, who is a high authority. " If A. hap 
peneth to be present at a murder, for instance, and taketl 
no part in it, nor endeavoreth to prevent it, nor appre 
hendeth the murderer, nor levyeth hue and cry after him 
this strange behavior of his, though highly criminal, wil 
not of itself render him either principal or accessory.' 
" But if a fact amounting to murder should be committed 
in prosecution of some unlawful purpose, though it iver< 
but a bare trespass, to which A., in the case last stated 
had consented, and he had gone in order to give assistance, 
if need were, for carrying it into execution — this would 
have amounted to murder in him, and in every person 
present and joining with him." "If the fact was com- 
mitted in prosecution of the original purpose, tvhich was 
unlawful, the whole party will be involved in the guilt of 
him who gave the blow. For, in combinations of this 
kind, the mortal stroke, though given by one of the party, 
is considered, in the eye of the law, and of sound reason 
too, as given by every individual present and abetting. 
The person actually giving the stroke is no more than the 
hand or instrument by which the others strike." The 
author, in speaking of being present, means actual pre- 
sence ; not actual in opposition to constructive, for the 
law knows no such distinction. There is but one presence, 
and this is the situation from which aid, or supposed aid 



380 SPEECHES OF DANISM, WEBSTER. 

may be rendered. The law does not say where he is tc 
go, or how near he is to go, but somewhere where he may 
give assistance, or where the perpetrator may suppose that 
he may be assisted by him. Suppose that he is acquainted 
with the design of the murderer, and has a knowledge of 
the time when it is to be carried into effect, and goes out 
with a view to render assistance, if need be : why, then, 
even though the murderer does not know of this, the per- 
son so going out will be an abettor in the murder. It is 
contended that the prisoner at the bar could not be a prin- 
cipal, he being in Brown Street ; because he could not 
there render assistance. And you are called upon to 
determine this case according as you may be of opinion 
whether Brown Street was, or was not, a suitable, conve- 
nient, well-chosen place to aid in this murder. This is 
not the true question. The inquiry is, not whether you 
would have selected this place in preference to all others, 
or whether you would have selected it at all ; if they 
chose it, why should we doubt about it? How do we 
know the use they intended to make of it, or the kind of 
aid that he was to afford by being there? The question 
for you to consider is, did the defendant go into Brown 
Street in aid of this murder f Did he go there by agree- 
ment, by appointment, with the perpetrator? If so, 
everv thing else follows. The main thing — indeed, the 
only thing — is to inquire whether he was in Brown Street 
by appointment with Richard Crowninshield ; it might be 
to keep general watch ; to observe the lights, and advise 
as to time of access ; to meet the prisoner on his return ; 
to advise him as to his eseape ; to examine his clothes ; to 
see if any marks of blood ; to furnish exchange of clothes, 
or new disguise, if necessary; to tell him through what 
streets lie could safely retreat, or whether he could deposit 
',he elub in the plaee designed: — or it might be without 



OX TIIU TIUAL r.y .i. I'. KXAPP. 3 i 

any distinct object, but merely to afford that encourage- 
ment which would be afforded by Richard Oowninshield's 
consciousness that he was near. It is of no consequence 
whether, in your opinion, the place was well chosen or not, 
to afford aid; — if it was so chosen, if it was by appoint- 
ment that he was there, that is enough. Suppose Richard 
Crowninshield, when applied to to commit the murder, had 
said, "I won't do it unless there can be some one near by 
to favor my escape. I won't go unless you will stay in 
Brown Street." Upon the gentleman's argument, he 
would not be an aider and abettor in the murder, because 
the place was not well chosen ; though it is apparent that 
the being in the place chosen wa> a condition without 
which the murder would have never happened. 

You are to consider the defendant as one in the league, 
in the combination to commit murder. If tie was there by 
appointment with the perpetrator, he is an abettor. The 
concurrence of the perpetrator in his being there, is proved 
by the previous evidence of the conspiracy. If Richard 
Crowninshield, for any purpose whatsoever, made it a con- 
dition of the agreement, that Frank Knap-p should stand 
as backer, then Frank Knapp was an aider and abettor : 
no matter what the aid was, of what sort it was, or degree 
—-be it never so little. Even if it were to judge of the 
hour, when it was best to go, or to see when the lights 
were extinguished, or to give an alarm if any one ap- 
proached. Who better calculated to judge of these things 
than the murderer himself? and if he so determined them, 
that is sufficient. 

Now as to the facts. Frank Knapp knew that the murder 
was that night to be committed ; he was one of the con- 
spirators, he knew the object, he knew the time. He had 
that day been to Wenham to see Joseph, and probably to 
Danvers to see Richard Crowninshield, for he kept his 



382 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

motions secret ; lie had that day hired a horse and chaise 
of Osborn, and attempted to conceal the purpose for which 
it was used,— he had intentionally left the place and the 
price blank on Osborn's books. He went to Wenham bv 
the way of Danvers : he had been told the week before, to 
hasten Dick ; he had seen the Crowninshields several times 
within a few days ; he had a saddle-horse the Saturday 
night before ; he had seen Mrs. Beckford at Wenham and 
knew she would not return that night. She had not been 
away before for six weeks, and probably would not soon be 
igain. He had just come from there. Every day, for the 
week previous, he had visited one or other of these con- 
spirators, save Sunday, and then probably he saw them in 
town. When he saw Joseph on the 6th, Joseph had pre- 
pared the house, and would naturally tell him of it ; there 
were constant communications between them, daily and 
nightly visitation ; — too much knowledge of these parties 
and this transaction, to leave a particle of doubt on the 
mind of any one, that Frank Knapp knew that the murder 
was to be done this night. The hour was come, and he 
knew it ; if so, and he was in Brown Street, without ex- 
plaining why he was there, can the jury for a moment 
doubt, whether he was there to countenance, aid or sup- 
port ; or for curiosity alone ; or to learn how the wages 
of sin and death were earned by the perpetrator ? 

[Here Mr. Webster read the law from Hawkins. 1 Hawk. 
204, lib. 1, chap. 32, sec. 7.] 

The perpetrator would derive courage, and strength, and 
confidence, from the knowledge of the fact that one of his 
associates was near by. If he was in Brown Street, he 
could have been there for no other purpose. If there for 
this purpose, then he was, in the language of the law, 
present, aiding and abetting in the murder. 

His interest lay in being somewhere else. If he had 



ON THE TKIAi OF J. F. KNAPP. 388' 

nothing to do with the murder, no part to act, why not 
stay at home? Why should he jeopard his own life, if it 
was not agreed that he should be there ? He would not 
voluntarily go where the very place would probably cause 
him to swing if detected. He would not voluntarily as- 
sume the place of danger. His taking this place, proves 
that he went to give aid. His staying away would have 
made an alibi. If he had nothing to do with the murder, 
he would be at home, where he could prove his alibi. He 
knew he was in danger, because he was guilty of the con- 
spiracy, and, if he had nothing to do, would not expose 
himself to suspicion or detection. 

Did the prisoner at the bar countenance this murder ? 
Did he concur, or did he non-concur,, in what the perpe- 
trator was about to do ? Would he have tried to shield 
him ? Would he have furnished his cloak for protection ? 
Would he have pointed out a safe way of retreat? As you 
would answer these questions, so you should answer the 
general question — whether he was there consenting to the 
murder ', or whether he was there a spectator only. 

One word more on this presence, called constructive pre- 
sence. What aid is to be rendered ? Where is the line to 
be drawn, between acting, and omitting to act ? Suppose 
he had been in the house, suppose he had followed the 
perpetrator to the chamber: wJiat could he have done? 
This was to be a murder by stealth, it was to be a secret 
assassination. It was not their purpose to have an open 
combat; they were to approach their victim unawares, and 
silently give the fatal blow. But if he had been in the 
chamber, no one can doubt that he would have been an 
abettor; because of his presence, and ability, to render 
services, if needed. What service could he have rendered, 
if there ? Could he have helped him fly ? Could he have 
aided the silence of his movements ? Could he have 



- Q 4 SPEECH F- «.»]•' DAMEL ~\X FILTER. 

facilitated his retreat, on the first alarm ? Surely, this wa? 
a case, where there was more of safety in going alone, than 
with another ; where company would only embarrass. 
Richard Crowninshield would prefer to go alone. He knew 
his errand too well. His nerves needed no collateral sup- 
port. He was not the man to take with him a trembling 
companion. He would prefer to have his aid at a distance. 
He would not wish to be embarrassed by his presence. 
He would prefer to have him out of the house. He would 
prefer that he should be in Brown Street. But, whether 
in the chamber, in the house, in the garden, or in the 
street, whatsoever is aiding in immediate presence is aid- 
ing in constructive presence — any thing that is aid in one 
case is aid in the other. 

[Reads from Hawkins. 4 Hawk. 201, lib. iv. chap. 29, 
sec. 8.] 

If then the aid be anywhere, that emboldens the per- 
petrator — that affords him hope or confidence in his en 
terprise : it is the same as though he stood at his elbow 
with his sword drawn : his being there ready to act, with 
the power to act, that is what makes him an abettor. 
[Here Mr. Webster referred to Kelly's case, and Hyde's 
case, &c, cited by counsel for the defendant, and showed 
that they did not militate with the doctrine for which he 

• 

contended. The difference is, in those cases there was 
open violence, this was a case of secret assassination. 'One 
aid must meet the occasion. Here no acting was necessary, 
but watching, concealment of escape, management.] 

What are the facts in relation to this presence ? Frank 
Knapp is proved a conspirator — proved to have known 
that the deed was now to be done. Is it not probable 
that he was in Brown Street to concur in the murder ? 
There were four conspirators ; it was natural that some 
one of them would go with the perpetrator. Richard 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 385 

Crowninshield was to be the perpetrator ; he was to give 
the blow. No evidence of any casting of the parts for 
the others. The defendant would probably be the man 
to take the second part. He was fond of exploits — he 
was accustomed to the use of sword-canes, and dirks. If 
any aid was required, he was the man to give it. At 
least there is no evidence to the contrary of this. 

Aid could not have been received from Joseph Knapp, 
or from George Crowninshield.. Joseph Knapp was at 
Wenham, and took good care to prove that he was there. 
George Crowninshield has proved satisfactorily where he 
was ; that he was in other company, such as it was, until 
eleven o'clock. This narrows the inquiry. This demands of 
the prisoner to show, that if he was not in' this place, 
where he was ? It calls on him loudly to show this, and 
to show it truly. If he could show it, he would do it. 
If he don't tell, and that truly, it is against him. The 
defence of an alibi is a double-edged sword. He knew 
that he was in a situation, that he might be called upon to 
account for himself. If he had had no particular ap- 
pointment, or business to attend to, he would have taken 
care to have been able so to have accounted. He would 
have been out of town, or in some good company. Has he 
accounted for himself on that night, to your satisfaction ? 

The prisoner has attempted to prove an alibi, in two 
ways. In the first place, by four young men with whom 
he says he was in company on the evening of the murder, 
from seven o'clock, till near ten o'clock ; this depends 
upon the certainty of the night. In the second place, by 
his family, from ten o'clock afterward ; this depends upon 
the ceHainty of the time of night. These two classes 
of proof have no connection with each other. One may 
be true, and the other false, or they may both be true, or 
both be false. I shall examine this testimony with some 



SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

attention, because on a former trial, it made more impres- 
sion on the minds of the court, than on my own mind. 1 
t'jink, when carefully sifted and compared, it will be found 
to have in it more of flamihility than reality. 

Mr. Page testifies, that on the evening of the 6th of 
April, he was in company with Burchmore, Balch, and 
Forrester, and that he met the defendant about seven 
o'clock, near the Salem hotel ; that he afterward met 
him at Remond's, about nine o'clock, and that he was in 
company with him a considerable part of the evening. 
This young gentleman is a member of college, and says 
that he came in town the Saturday evening previous ; that 
he is now able to say that it was the night of the murder, 
when he walked with Frank Knapp, from a recollection 
of the fact that he called himself to an account, on the 
morning after the murder, as was natural for men to do 
when an extraordinary occurrence happens. Gentlemen, 
this kind of evidence is not satisfactory ; general impres- 
sions as to time are not to be relied on. If I were called 
upon to state the particular day on which any witness 
testified in this cause, I could not do it. Every man will 
notice the same thing in his own mind. There is no one 
of these young men that could give any account of him- 
self for any other day in the month of April. They are 
made to remember the fact, and then they think they re- 
member the time. He has no means of knowing it was 
Tuesday more than any other time. He did not know it 
at first, he could not know it afterward. He says he 
called himself to an account ; this has no more to do with 
the murder than with the man in the moon. Such testimony 
is not worthy to be relied on, in any. forty-shilling cause.. 
What occasion had he to call himself to an account ? Did 
he suppose, that he should be suspected? Had he any 
intimation of this conspiracy? 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 387 

Suppose, gentlemen, you were either of you asked, 
where you were, or what you were doing, on the 15th day 
of June : you could not answer this question, without 
calling to mind some events to make it certain. Just as 
'well may you remember on what you dined on each day 
of the year past. Time is identical. Its subdivisions 
are all alike. No man knows one day from another, or 
one hour from another, but by some fact connected with it. 
Days and hours are not visible to the senses, nor to be 
apprehended and distinguished by the understanding. 
The flow of time is known only by something which makes 
it ; and he who speaks of the date of occurrences with 
nothing to guide his recollection, speaks at random, and 
is not to be relied on. This young gentleman remembers 
the facts, and occurrences — he knows nothing why they 
should not have happened on the evening of the 6th ; 
but he knows no more. All the rest is evidently conjec- 
ture or impression. 

Mr. White informs you that he told him he could not 
tell what night it was. The first thoughts are all that are 
valuable in such case. They miss the mark by taking 
second aim. 

Mr. Balch believes,' but is not sure, that he was with 
Frank Knapp on the evening of the murder. He has 
given different accounts of the time. He has no means of 
making it certain. All he knows is, that it was some 
evening before Fast. But whether Monday, Tuesday, or 
Saturday, he cannot tell. 

Mr. Burchmore says, to the best of his belief, it was the 
evening of the murder. Afterward he attempts to speak 
positively, from recollecting that he mentioned the circum- 
stance to William Peirce, as he went to the Mineral Spring 
on Fast-day. Last Monday morning, he told Colonel Put- 
nam he could not fix the time. This witness stands in a 



888 SPEECHES or DANIEL WEBSTEK. 



much worse plight than either of the others. It is difficult 
to reconcile all he has said, with any belief in the accuracy 
of his recollections. 

Mr. Forrester does not speak with any certainty as to 
the night ; and it is very certain, that he told Mr. Loring 
and others, that he did not know what night it was. 

Now, what does the testimony of these four young men 
amount to ? The only circumstance, by which they ap- 
proximate to an identifying of the night, is, that three of 
them say it was cloudy ; they think their walk was either 
on Monday or Tuesday evening, and it is admitted that 
Monday evening was clear, whence they draw the inference 
that it must have been Tuesday. 

But, fortunately, there is one fact disclosed in their 
testimony that settles the question. Balch says, that on 
the evening, whenever it was, that he saw the prisoner, 
the prisoner told him he was going out of town on horse- 
back, for a distance of about twenty minutes' ride, and 
that he was going to get a horse at Osborn's. This was 
about seven o.' clock. At about nine, Balch says he saw 
the prisoner again, and was then told by him, that he had 
had his ride, and had returned. Now it appears by 
Osborn's books, that the prisoner had a saddle-horse from 
his stable, not on Tuesday evening, the night of the murder, 
but on the Saturday evening previous. This fixes the 
time, about which these young men testify, and is a com- 
plete answer and refutation of the attempted alibi, on 
Tuesday evening. 

I come now to speak of the testimony adduced by the 
defendant to explain where he was after ten o'clock on thtr 
night of the murder. This comes chiefly from members 
of the family ; from his father and brothers. 

It is agreed that the affidavit of the prisoner should be 
received as evidence of what his brother, Samuel H. Knapp> 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. o9 

would testify, if present. ' S. H. Knapp says, that about 
ten minutes past ten o'clock, his brother F. Knapp, on his 
way to bed, opened his ehainber-door, made some remarks, 
closed the door, and went to his chamber ; and that he did 
not hear him leave it afterward. How is this witness able 
to fix the time at ten minutes past ten ? There is no cir- 
cumstance mentioned, by which he fixes it. He had been 
in bed, probably asleep, and was aroused from his sleep, 
by the opening of the door. Was he in a situation to speak 
of time with precision ? Could he know, under such cir- 
cumstances, whether it was ten minutes past ten, or ten 
minutes before eleven, when his brother spoke to him ? 
What would be the natural result, in such a case ? But 
we are not left to conjecture this result. We have positive 
testimony on this point. Mr. Webb tells you that Samuel 
told him on the 8th of June, "that he did not know what 
time his brother Frank came home, and that he was not at 
home when he went to bed." You will consider this tes- 
timony of Mr. Webb, as endorsed upon this affidavit ; and 
with this endorsement upon it, you will give it its due 
weight. This statement was made to him after Frank was 
arrested. 

I come to the testimony of the father. I find myself 
incapable of speaking of him or his testimony with severity. 
Unfortunate old man ! Another Lear, in the conduct of 
his children ; another Lear, I fear, in the effect of his dis- 
tress upon his mind and understanding. He is brought 
here to testify, under circumstances that disarm severity, 
and call loudly for sympathy. Though it is impossible not 
to see that his story cannot be credited, yet I am not able 
to speak of him otherwise than in sorrow and grief. Un- 
happy father ! he strives to remember, perhaps persuades 
himself that he does remember, that on the'evening of the 
murder he was himself at home at ten o'clock. He thinks, 

32 



890 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

or seems to think, that his son came in, at about five 
minutes past ten. He fancies that he remembers his con- 
versation ; he thinks he spoke of bolting the door ; he 
thinks he asked the time of night ; he seems to remember 
his then going to his bed. Alas ! these are but the swim- 
ming fancies of an agitated and distressed mind. Alas ! 
they are but the dreams of hope, — its uncertain lights 
flickering on the thick darkness of parental distress. Alas ! 
the miserable father knows nothing, in reality, of all these 
things. 

Mr. Shepard says that the first conversation he had with 
Mr. Knapp, was soon after the murder, and before the 
arrest of his sons. Mr. Knapp says it was after the arrest 
of his sons. His own fears led him to say to Mr. Shepard, 
that his " son Frank was at home that night ; and so 
Phippen told him, — or as Phippen told him." Mr. Shepard 
says that he was struck with the remark at the time, that 
it made an unfavorable impression on his mind; he does 
not tell you what that impression was, but when you con- 
nect it with the previous inquiry he had made; — whether 
Frank had continued to associate with the Crowninshields ? 
— and recollect that the. Crowninshields were then known 
to be suspected of this crime, can you doubt what this im- 
pression was ? can you doubt as to the fears he then had ? 

This poor old man tells you that he was greatly perplexed 
at the time, that he found himself in embarrassed circum- 
stances ; that on this very night he was engaged in making 
an assignment of his property to his friend, Mr. Shepard. 
If ever charity should furnish a mantle for error, it should 
be here. Imagination cannot picture a more deplorable, 
distressed condition. 

The same general remarks may be applied to his con- 
versation with Mr. Treadwell, as have been made upon 
that with Mr. Shepard. He told him that he believed 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 391 

Frank was at home about the usual time. In his con 
versations with either of these persons, he did not pretend 
to know, of his own knowledge, the time that he came 
home. He now tells you, positively, that he recollects 
the time, and that he so told Mr. Shepard. He is directly 
contradicted by both these witnesses, as respectable men 
as Salem affords. 

This idea of alibi, is of recent origin. Would Samuel 
Knapp have gone to sea, if it were then thought of? 
His testimony, if true, was too important to be lost. If 
there be any truth in this part of the alibi, it is so near in 
point of time, that it cannot be relied on. The mere 
variation of half an hour would avoid it. The mere 
variations of different time-pieces would explain it. 

Has the defendant proved where he was on that night ? 
If you doubt about it — there is an end of it. The burden 
is upon him, to satisfy you beyond all reasonable doubt. 
Osborn's books, in connection with what the young men 
state, are conclusive, I think, on this point. He has not, 
then, accounted for himself — he has attempted it, and has 
failed. I pray you to remember, gentlemen, that this is 
a case, in which the prisoner would, more than any other, 
be rationally able to account for himself, on the night of 
the murder, if he could do so. He was in the conspiracy, 
he knew the murder was then to be committed, and if he 
himself was to have no hand in its actual execution, he 
would of course, as matter of safety and precaution, be 
somewhere else, and be able to prove, afterward, that he 
had been somewhere else. Having this motive to prove 
himself elsewhere, and the power to do it, if he were else- 
where, his failing in such proof must necessarily leave a 
very strong inference against him. 

But, gentlemen, let us now consider what is the evidence 
produced on the part of the Government to prove that 



392 speeches oy daxiel wkbster. 

John Francis Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, was in 
Brown Street on the night of the murder. This is a point 
of vital importance in this cause. Unless this be made 
out, beyond reasonable doubt, the law of presence does 
not apply to the case. The Government undertake to 
prove that he was present, aiding in the murder, by prov- 
ing that he was in Brown Street for this purpose. Now, 
what are the undoubted facts ? They are, that two per- 
sons were seen in that street, at several times, during that 
evening, under suspicious circumstances ; — under such cir- 
cumstances as induced those who saw them, to watch their 
movements. Of this, there can be no doubt. Mirick saw 
a man standing at the post opposite his store, from fifteen 
minutes before nine, until twenty minutes after, dressed in 
a full frock-coat, glazed cap, &c, in size and general ap- 
pearance answering to the prisoner at the bar. This person 
was waiting there ; and whenever any one approached him, 
he moved to and from the corner, as though he would 
avoid being suspected, or recognised. Afterward, two per- 
sons were seen by Webster, walking in Howard Street, with 
a slow, deliberate movement, that attracted his attention. 
This was about half-past nine. One of these he took to 
be the prisoner at the bar — the other he did not know. 

About half-past ten, a person is seen sitting on the 
ropewalk steps, wrapped in a cloak. He drops his head 
when passed, to avoid being known. Shortly after, two 
persons are seen to meet in this street, without ceremony 
or salutation, and in a hurried manner to converse for a 
short time ; then to separate, and run off with great speed. 
Now, on this same night, a gentleman is slain, — murdered 
in his bed, — his house being entered by stealth from with- 
out ; and his house situated within three hundred feet of 
this street. The ^windows of his chamber were in plain sight 
from this street ; — a weapon of death is afterward found 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPF. 393 

in a place where these persons were seen to pass— in a 
retired place, around which they had been seen lingering. 
It is now known that this murder was committed by a con- 
spiracy of four persons, conspiring together for this pur- 
pose. No account is given who these suspected persons 
thus seen in Brown Street and its neighborhood were. 
Now, I ask, gentlemen, whether you or any man can 
doubt, that this murder was committed by the persons 
who were thus in and about Brown Street ? Can any 
person doubt that they were there for purposes connected 
with this murder? If not for this purpose, what were 
they there for ? When there is a cause so near at hand, 
why wander into conjecture for an explanation ? Com- 
mon sense requires you to take the nearest adequate cause 
for a known effect. Who were these suspicious persons in 
Brown Street ? There was something extraordinary about 
them— something noticeable, and noticed at the time — some- 
thing in their appearance that aroused suspicion. And a man 
is found the next morning murdered in the near vicinity. 

Now, so long as no other account shall be given of 
those suspicious persons, so long the inference must re- 
main irresistible, that they were the murderers. Let it be 
remembered, that it is already shown that this murder 
was the result of conspiracy, and of concert ; let it be 
remembered, that the house, having been opened from 
within, was entered, by stealth, from without. Let it be 
remembered that Brown Street, where these persons were 
repeatedly seen, under such suspicious circumstances, was 
a place from which every occupied room in Mr. White's 
house was clearly seen ; let it be remembered that the 
place, though thus very near to Mr. White's house, was a 
retired and lonely place ; and let it be remembered that the 
instrument of death was afterward found concealed, very 
near the same spot. 



394 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Must not every man come to the conclusion, that these 
persons, thus seen in Brown Street, were the murderers ? 
Every man's own judgment, I think, must satisfy him that 
this must be so. It is a plain deduction of common sense. 
It is a point, on which each one of you may reason like a 
Hale, or a Mansfield. The two occurrences explain each 
other. The murder shows why these persons were thus 
lurking, at that hour, in Brown Street ; and their lurking 
in Brown Street, shows who committed the murder. 

If, then, the persons in and about Brown Street were 
the plotters and executors of the murder of Captain White, 
we know who they were, and you know that there is one 
of them. 

This fearful concatenation of circumstances puts him to 
an account. He was a conspirator. He had entered into 
this plan of murder. The murder is committed, and he is 
known to have been within three minutes' walk of the 
place. He must account for himself. He has attempted 
this, and failed. Then, with all these general reasons to 
show he was actually in Brown Street, and his failures in 
his alibi, let us see what is the direct proof of his being 
there. But first, let me ask, is it not very remarkable, 
that there is no attempt to show where Richard Crownin- 
shield, Jr. was on that night ? We hear nothing of him. He 
was seen in none of his usual haunts, about the town. 
Yet, if he was the actual perpetrator of the murder, 
which nobody doubts, he was in the town, somewhere. 
Can you, therefore, entertain a doubt, that he was one of 
the persons, seen in Brown Street? And as to the prisoner, 
you will recollect, that since the testimony of the young 
men has failed to show where he was that evening, the last 
we hear or know of him, on the day preceding the murder, 
is, that at four o'clock p.m. he was at his brother's, in 
Wenham. He had left home, after dinner, in a manner 



ON TlfE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 89,5 

doubtless designed to avoid observation, and had gone to 
Wenham. probably by way of Danvers. As we hear 
nothing of him, after four o'clock p.m. for the remainder 
of the day and evening; as he was one of the conspirators; 
as Richard Crowninshield, Jr. was another; as Richard 
Crowninshield, Jr. was in town in the evening, and yet 
seen in no usual place of resort, the inference is very fair 
that Richard Crowninshield, Jr. and the prisoner were 
together, acting in execution of their conspiracy. Of 
the four copspirators, J. J. Knapp, Jr. was at Wenham, 
and George Crowninshield has been accounted for; so 
that if the persons seen in Brown Street, were the mur- 
derers, one of them must have been Richard Crownin- 
shield, Jr. and the other must have been the prisoner at 
the bar. Now, as to the proof of his identity with one of 
the persons seen in Brown Street. 

Mr. Mirick, a cautious witness, examined the persob he 
saw, closely, in a light night, and says that he thinks the 
prisoner at the bar js the same person ; and that he should 
not hesitate at all, if he were seen in the same dress. His 
opinion is formed, partly from his own observation, and 
partly from the description of others. But this description 
turns out to be only in regard to the dress. It is said, that 
he is now more confident, than on the former trial. If he 
has varied in his testimony, make such allowance as you 
may think proper. I do not perceive any material variance. 
He thought him the same person, when he was first brought 
to court, and as he saw him get out of the chaise. This is 
one of the cases, in which a witness is permitted to give an 
opinion. This witness is as honest as yourselves — neither 
willing nor swift; but he says, he believes it was the man — 
"this is my opinion ;" and this it is proper for him to give. 
If partly founded on what he has heard, then his opinion 
is not to be taken ; but, if on what he saw, then you can 



396 SPEECHES <:>1' DANiKE WEBSTER. 

have no better evidence. I lay no stress on similarity of 
dress. No man will ever be hanged by my voice on such 
evidence. But then it is proper to notice, that no infer- 
ences drawn from any dissimilarity of dress, can be given 
in the prisoner's favor ; because, in fact, the person seer 
by Mirick was dressed like the prisoner. 

The description of the person seen by Mirick answers to 
that of the prisoner at the bar. In regard to the supposed 
discrepancy of statements, before and now, there would be 
no end to such minute inquiries. It would not.be strange 
if witnesses should vary. I do not think much of slight 
shades of variation. If I believe the witness is honest, 
that is enough. If he has expressed himself more strongly 
now than then, this does not prove him false. 

Peter E. Webster saw the prisoner at the bar, as he then 
thought, and still thinks, walking in Howard Street at half- 
past nine o'clock. He then thought it was Frank Knapp, 
and has not altered his opinion since. He knew him well ; 
he had long known him. If he then thought it was he, this 
goes far to prove it. He observed him the more, as it was 
unusual to see gentlemen walk there at that hour. It was 
a retired, lonely street. Now, is there reasonable doubt 
that Mr. Webster did see him there that night ? How can 
you have more proof than this? He judged by his walk, 
by his general appearance, by his deportment. We all 
judge in this manner. If you believe he is right, it goes 
a great way in this case. But then this person it is said 
had a cloak on, and that he could not, therefore, be the 
same person that Mirick saw. If we were treating of men 
that had no occasion to disguise themselves or their con- 
duct, there might be something in this argument. But as 
it is, there is little in it. It may be presumed that they 
would change their dress. This would help their disguise. 
What is easier than to throw off a cloak, and again put it 



ON IKE TiilAL UF J. T. KNAPP. ol)7 

on? Perhaps he was less fearful of being known when 
alone, than when with the perpetrator. 

Mr. Southwick swears all that a man can swear. He 
has the best means of judging that could be had at the 
time. He tells you that he left his father's house at half- 
past ten o'clock, and as he passed to his own house in 
Brown Street, he saw a man sitting on the steps of the 
ropewalk, &e. &c. — that he passed him three times, and 
each time he held down his head, so that he did not see his 
face. That the man had on a cloak, which was not wrapped 
around him, and a glazed cap. That he took the man to 
be Frank Knapp at the time ; that when he went into his 
house, he told his wife that he thought it was Frank Knapp ; 
that he knew him well, having known him from a boy. 
And his wife swears that he did so tell her at the time. 
What could mislead this witness at the time ? He was not 
then suspecting Frank Knapp of any thing. He could not 
then be influenced by any prejudice. If you believe that 
the witness saw Frank Knapp in this position, at this time, 
it proves the case. Whether you believe it or not, depends 
upon the credit of the witness. He swears it. If true, it 
is solid evidence. Mrs. Southwick supports her husband. 
Are they true? Are they worthy of belief? If he de- 
serves the epithets applied to him, then he ought not to be 
believed. In this fact, they cannot be mistaken : they are 
right, or they are perjured. As to his not speaking to 
Frank Knapp, that depends upon their intimacy. But a 
very good reason is, Frank chose to disguise himself. This 
makes nothing against his credit. But it is said that he 
should not be believed. And why ? Because, it is said, 
he himself now tells you that when he testified before the 
grand jury at Ipswich, he did not then say that he thought 
the person he saw in Brown Street was Frank Knapp,. but 
that "the person was about the size of Selman." The 

34 



398 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

means of attacking him, therefore, come from himself. If 
he is a false man, why should he tell truths against him- 
self? they rely on his veracity to prove that he is a liar. 
Before you can come to this conclusion, you will consider, 
whether all the circumstances are now known, that should 
have a bearing on this point. Suppose that when he was 
before the grand jury he was asked by the attorney this 
question, " Was the person you saw in Brown Street about 
the size of Selman ?" and he answered, yes. This was all 
true. Suppose also that he expected to be inquired of 
further, and no further questions were put to him. Would 
it not be extremely hard to impute to him perjury for this? 
It is not uncommon for witnesses to think that they have 
done all their duty, when they have answered the questions 
put to them ? But suppose that we admit, that he did not 
then tell all he knew, this does not affect the fact at all ; 
because he did tell, at the time, in the hearing of others, 
that the person he saw was Frank Knapp. There is not 
the slightest suggestion against the veracity or accuracy 
of Mrs. Southwick. Now, she swears positively, that her 
husband came into the house and told her that he had seen 
a person on the ropewalk steps, and believed it was Frank 
Knapp. 

It is said that Mr. Southwick is contradicted, also, by 
Mr. Shillaber. I do not so understand Mr. Shillaber's 
testimony. I think what they both testify is reconcilable 
and consistent. My learned brother said, on a similar 
occasion, that there is more probability in such cases that 
the persons hearing should misunderstand, than that the 
person speaking should contradict himself. I think the 
same remarks applicable here. 

You have all witnessed the uncertainty of testimony, 
when witnesses are called to testify what other witnesses 
said. Several respectable counsellors have been called on, 



ON THE TRIAL OF 'J. F. KNAPP. 399 

on this occasion, to give testimony of that sort. They 
have, every one of them, given different versions. They 
all took minutes at the time, and without doubt intend to 
state the truth. But still they differ. Mr. Shillaber's 
version is different from every thing that Southwick has 
stated elsewhere. But little reliance is to be placed on 
slight variations in testimony, unless they are manifestly 
intentional. I think that Mr. Shillaber must be satisfied 
that he did not rightly understand Mr. Southwick. I 
confess I misunderstood Mr. Shillaber on the former trial, 
if I now rightly understand him. I therefore did not then 
recall Mr. Southwick to the stand. Mr. Southwick, as I 
read it, understood Mr. Shillaber as asking him about a 
person coming out of Newbury Street, and whether, for 
aught he knew, it might not be Richard Crowninshield, Jr. 
He answered that he could not tell. He did not under- 
stand Mr. Shillaber as questioning him as to the person 
whom he saw sitting on the steps of the ropewalk. 
Southwick, on this trial, having heard Mr. Shillaber, has 
been recalled to the stand, and states that Mr. Shillaber 
entirely misunderstood him. This is certainly most pro- 
bable, because the controlling fact in the case is not con- 
troverted—that is, that Southwi«k did tell his wife, at the 
very moment he entered his house, that he had seen a 
person on the ropewalk steps, whom he believed to be 
Frank Knapp. Nothing can prove, with more certainty 
than this, that Southwick, at the time, thought the person 
whom he thus saw to be the prisoner at the bar. 

Mr. Bray is an acknowledged accurate and intelligent 
witness. He was highly complimented by my brother on 
the former trial, although he now charges him with vary- 
ing his testimony. What could be his motive ? You will 
be slow in imputing to him any design of this kind. I 
deny altogether that there is any contradiction, There 



400 SPEECHES OF DAXIEL WEBSTER. 

may be differences, but not contradiction. These arise 
from the difference in the questions put — the difference 
between believing and knowing. On the first trial, he said 
he did not know the person, and now says the same. Then 
we did not do all we had a right to do. We did not ask 
him who he thought it was. Now, when so asked, he says 
he believes it was the prisoner at the bar. If he had then 
been asked this question, he would have given the same 
answer. That he has expressed himself stronger, I 
admit ; but he has not contradicted himself. He is more 
confident now ; and that is all. A man may not assert a 
thin^, and still not have any doubt upon it. Cannot 
every man see this distinction to be consistent ? I leave 
him in that attitude; that only is the difference. On 
questions of identity, opinion is evidence. We may ask 
the witness either if he knew who the person seen was, or 
who he thinks he was. And he may well answer, as 
Captain Bray has answered, that he does not know who it 
was, but that he thinks it was the prisoner. 

We have offered to produce witnesses to prove that as 
150011 as Bray saw the prisoner, he pronounced him the 
same person. We are not at liberty to call them to cor- 
roborate our own witness. How then could this fact of 
prisoner's being in Brown Street be better proved ? If ten 
witnesses had testified to it, it would be no better. Two 
men, who knew T him well, took it to be Frank Knapp, and 
one of them so said, when there was nothing to mislead 
them. Two others, that examined him closely, now swear 
to their opinion that he is the man. 

Miss Jaqueth saw three persons pass by the ropewalk, 
several evenings before the murder. She saw one of them 
pointing toward Mr. White's house. She noticed that 
another had something which appeared to be like an 
instrument of music; that he put it behind him, and 



ON THE TRIAL of j. V. RNAPP. 40l 

attempted to conceal it. Who were these persons ? This 
was but a few steps from the place where this apparent 
instrument of music (of music such as Richard Crownin- 
shield, Jr. spoke of to Palmer) was afterward found. 
These facts prove this a point of rendezvous for these 
parties. They show Brown Street to have been the place 
for consultation and observation; and to this purpose it 
was well suited. 

Mr. Burns's testimony is also important. What was 
the defendant's object in his private conversation with 
Burns? He knew that Burns was out that night; that 
he lived near Brown Street, and that he had probably seen 
him ; and he wished him to say nothing. He said to 
Burns, "If you saw any of your friends out that night, 
say nothing about it. My brother Jo and I are your 
friends." This is plain proof that he wished to say to 
him, If you saw me in Brown Street that night, say 
nothing about it. 

But it is said that Burns ought not to be believed, 
because he mistook the color of the dagger, and because 
be has varied in his description of it. These are slight 
circumstances, if his general character be good. To my 
mind they are of no importance. It is for you to make 
what deduction you may think proper, on this account, 
from the weight of his evidence. His conversation with 
Burns, if Burns is believed, shows two things: first, that 
he desired Burns not to mention it, if he had seen him on 
the night of the murder ; second, that he wished to fix the 
charge of murder on Mr. Stephen White. Both of these 
prove his own guilt. 

I think you will be of opinion, gentlemen, that Brown 
Street was a 'probable place for the conspirators to assem- 
ble, and for an aid to be. If we knew their whole plan, 
and if we were skilled to judge in such a case, then we 

34* 



40£ SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

could perhaps determine on this point better. But it is a 
retired place, and still commands a full view of the house ; 
—a lonely place, but still a place of observation. Not 
so lonely that a person would excite suspicion to be seen 
walking there in an ordinary manner ; — not so public as 
to be noticed by many. It is near enough to the scene of 
action in point of law. It was their point of centrality. 
The club was found near the spot — in a place provided for 
it — in a place that had been previously hunted out — in a 
concerted place of concealment. Here was their point of 
rendezvous ; here might the lights be seen ; here might an 
aid be secreted ; here was he within call ; here might he 
be aroused bv the sound of the whistle : here might he 
carry the weapon ; here might he receive the murderer 
after the murder. 

Then, gentlemen, the general question occurs, is it 
satisfactorily proved, by all these facts and circumstances, 
that the defendant was in and about Brown Street, on the 
night of the murder ? Considering, that the murder was 
eifected by a conspiracy ; — considering, that he was one of 
the four conspirators ; — considering, that two of the con- 
spirators have accounted for themselves, on the night of 
the murder, and were not in Brown Street ; — considering, 
that the prisoner does not account for himself, nor show 
where he was ; — considering, that Richard Crowninshield, 
the other conspirator, and the perpetrator, is not accounted 
for, nor shown to be elsewhere ; — considering, that it is 
now past all doubt that two persons were seen in and 
about Brown Street, at different times, lurking, avoiding 
observation, and exciting so much suspicion that the neigh- 
bors actually watched them ; — considering, that if these 
persons, thus lurking in Brown Street, at that hour, were 
not the murderers, it remains, to this day, wholly unknown 
who they were, or what their business was ; — considering 



.ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 403 

the testimony of Miss Jaqueth, and that the club was 
afterward found near this place ; considering, finally, 
that Webster and South wick saw these persons, and then 
took one of them for the defendant, and that Southwick 
then told his wife so, and that Bray and Mirick examined 
them closely, and now swear to their belief that the 
prisoner was one of them ; it is for you to say, putting 
these considerations together, whether you believe the 
prisoner was actually in Brown Street, at the time of the 
murder. 

By the counsel for the defendant, much stress has been 
laid upon the question, whether Brown Street was a place 
in which aid could be given ? a place in which actual as- 
sistance could be rendered in this transaction ? This must 
be mainly decided, by their own opinion who selected th* 
place ; by what they thought at the time, according to theh 
plan of operation. 

If it was agreed that the prisoner should be there to 
assist, it is enough. If they thought the place proper for 
their purpose, according to their plain, it is sufficient. 

Suppose we could prove expressly, that they agreed that 
Frank should be there, and he was there ; and you should 
think it not a well-chosen place, for aiding and abetting, 
must he be acquitted? No! — it is not what J think, or 
you think, of the appropriateness of the place — it is what 
they thought at the time. 

• If the prisoner was in Brown Street, by appointment 
and agreement with the perpetrator, for the purpose of 
giving assistance, if assistance should be needed, it may 
safely be presumed that the place was suited to such assist- 
ance as it was supposed by the parties might chance to 
become requisite. 

If in Brown Street, was he there by appointment ? was 
he there to aid, if aid were necessary ? was he there for, or 



404 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

against the murderer? to concur, or to oppose ? to favor, 
or to thwart ? Did the perpetrator know he was there — 
there waiting ? If so, then it follows, he was there by 
appointment. He was at the post, half an hour ; he was 
waiting for somebody. This proves appointment — arrange- 
ment — previous agreement ; then it follows, he was there 
to aid, — to encourage, — to embolden the perpetrator ; and 
that is enough. If lie were in such a situation as to afford 
aid, or that he was relied upon for aid, — then he was aid- 
ing and abetting. It is enough that the conspirators 
desired to have him there. Besides, it may be well said, 
that he could afford just as much aid there, as if he had 
been in Essex Street — as if he had been standing even at 
the gate, or at the window. It was not an act of power 
against power that was to be done, — it was a secret act, to 
be done by stealth. The aid was to be placed in a position 
secure from observation. It was important to the security 
of both, that he should be in a lonely place. Now, it is 
obvious, that there are many purposes for which he might 
be in Brown Street. 

1. Richard Crowninshield might have been secreted in 
the garden, and waiting for a signal. 

2. Or he might be in Brown Street, to advise him as to 
the time of making his entry into the house. 

3. Or to favor his escape. 

4. Or to see if the street was clear when he came out. 

5. Or to conceal the weapon or the clothes. 

6. To be ready for any other unforeseen contingency. 

Richard Crowninshield lived in Danvers — he would re- 
tire the most secret way. Brown Street is that way ; if 
you find him there, can you doubt why he was there ? 

If, gentlemen, the prisoner went into Brown Street, by 
appointment with the perpetrator, to render aid or en- 
re-uragement, in any of these ways, he was present, ig 



0>. TliK Ti:[AI OF . r . V. \^.\P' y - 4*05 

legal contemplation, aiding and abetting in this fou ler. 
It is not necessary that he should- have done any thing; 
it is enough, that he was ready to act, and in a place to 
act. If his being in Brown Street, by appointment, at 
the time of the murder, emboldened the purpose and en- 
couraged the heart of the murderer, by the hope of instant 
aid, if aid should become necessary, then, without doubt, 
he was present, aiding and abetting, and was a principal 

in the murder. 

I now proceed, gentlemen, to the consideration of the 
testimony of Mr. Colman. Although this evidence bears 
on every material part of the cause, I have purposely 
avoided every comment on it, till the present moment, 
when I have done with the other evidence in the case. As 
to the admission of this evidence, there has been a great 
struggle, and its importance demanded it. The general 
rule of law is, that confessions are to be received as evi- 
dence. They are entitled to great or to little considera- 
tion, according to the circumstances under which they are 
made. Voluntary, deliberate confessions are the most im- 
portant and satisfactory evidence. But confessions hastily 
made, or improperly obtained, are entitled to little or no 
consideration. It is always to be inquired, whether they 
were purely voluntary, or were made under any undue in- 
fluence of hope or fear ; for, in general, if any influence 
were exerted on the mind of the person confessing, such 
confessions are not to be submitted to a jury. 

Who is Mr. Colman ? He is an intelligent, accurate, 
and cautious witness. A gentleman of high and well- 
known character ; and of unquestionable veracity. As a 
clergyman, highly respectable ; as a man, of fair name and 

fame. 

Why was Mr. Colman with the prisoner? Joseph J. 
Knapp was his parishioner ; he was the head of a family, 



406 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

and had been married by Mr. Colman. The interests of 
his family were dear to him. He felt for their afflictions, 
and was anxious to alleviate their sufferings. He went 
from the purest and best of motives to visit Joseph Knapp. 
He came to save, not to destroy ; to rescue, not to take 
away life. In this family, he thought there might be a 
chance to save one. It is a misconstruction of Mr. Colman's 
motives, at once the most strange and the most unchari- 
table, a perversion of all just views of his conduct and 
intentions, the most unaccountable, to represent him as 
acting, on this occasion, in hostility to any one, or as de- 
sirous of injuring or endangering any one. He has stated 
his own motives, and his own conduct, in a manner to com- 
mand universal belief, and universal respect. For intelli- 
gence, for consistency, for accuracy, for caution, for candor, 
never did witness acquit himself better, or stand fairer. In 
all that he did, as a man, and all he has said, as a witness, 
he has show T n himself worthy of entire regard. 

Now, gentlemen, very important confessions made by the 
prisoner, are sworn to by Mr. Colman. They were made 
in the prisoner's cell, where Mr. Colman had gone with the 
prisoner's brother, N. P. Knapp. Whatever conversation 
took place, was in the presence of N. P. Knapp. Now, on 
the part of the prisoner, two things are asserted; first, that 
such inducements were suggested to the prisoner, in this 
interview, that any confessions by him ought not to be re- 
ceived. Second, that, in point of fact, he made no such 
confessions, as Mr. Colman testifies to, nor, indeed, any 
confessions at all. These two propositions are attempted 
to be supported by the testimony of N. P. Knapp. These 
two witnesses, Mr. Colman and N. P. Knapp, differ entirely. 
There is no possibility of reconciling them. No charity can 
cover both. One or the other has sworn falsely. If N. P. 
.Knapp be believed, Mr. Colman's testimony must be wholly 



ON THE TRIAL Of J. F. KNAPP. 407 

disregarded. It is, then, a question of credit, a question 
of belief, between the two witnesses. As you decide 
between these, so you will decide on all this part of the 
case. 

Mr. Colraan has given \ou a plain narrative, a consistent 
account, and has uniformly stated the same things. He is 
not contradicted by any thing in the case, except Phippen 
Knapp. He is influenced, as far as we can see, by no bias, 
or prejudice, any more than other men, except so far as his 
character is now at stake. He has feelings on this point, 
doubtless, and ought to have. If what he has stated be 
not true, I cannot see any ground for his escape. If he be 
a true man, he must have heard what he testifies. No 
treachery of memory brings to memory things that never 
took place. There is no reconciling his evidence with good 
intention, if the facts are not as he states them. He is on 
trial as to his veracity. 

The relation in which the other witness stands, deserves 
your careful consideration. He is a member of the family. 
He has the lives of two brother^ dependingj as he maj 
think, on the effect of his evidence ; depending on everj 
word he speaks. I hope he has not another* responsibility 
resting upon him. By the advice of a friend, and that 
friend Mr. Colman, J. Knapp made a full and free con- 
fession, and obtained a promise of pardon. He has since, 
as you know, probably by the advice of other friends, re- 
tracted that confession, and rejected the offered pardon. 
Events will show, who of these friends and advisers ad- 
vised him best, and befriended him most. In the mean 
time, if this brother, the witness, be one of these advisers, 
and advised the retraction, he has, most emphatically, the 
lives of his brothers resting upon his evidence and upon 
his conduct. Compare the situation of these two witnesses. 
Do you not see mighty motive enough on the one side, and 



-J OF SPEECHES OF DAN TEL WKK-TER. 

want of all motive on the other? I would gladly find an 
apology for that witness, in his agonized feelings, — in his 
distressed situation ; — in the agitation of that hour, or of 
this. I would gladly impute it to error, or to want of 
recollection, to confusion of mind, or disturbance of feel- 
ing. I would gladly impute to any pardonable source, that 
which cannot be reconciled to facts, and to truth ; but, even 
in a case calling for so much sympathy, justice must yet 
prevail, and we must come to the conclusion, however re- 
luctantly, which that demands from us. 

It is said, Phippen Knapp was probably correct, because 
he knew he should be called as a witness. Witness — to 
what? When he says there was no confession, what could 
he expect to bear witness of? But I do not put it on the 
ground that he did not hear ; I am compelled to put it on 
the other ground — that he did hear, and does not now truly 
tell what he heard. 

If Mr. Colman were out of the case, there are other 
reasons why the story of Phippen Knapp should not be 
believed. It has in it inherent improbabilities. It is un- 
natural, and inconsistent with the accompanying circum- 
stances. He tells you that they went " to the cell of 
Frank, to see if he had any objection to taking a trial, and 
suffering his brother to accept the offer of pardon :" in 
other words, to obtain Frank's consent to Joseph's making 
a confession ; and in case this consent was not obtained, 
that the pardon would be offered to Frank, &c. Did they 
bandy about the chance of life, between these two, in this 
way ? Did Mr. Colman, after having given this pledge to 
Joseph, after having received a disclosure from Joseph, go 
to the cell to Frank for such a purpose as this ? It is im- 
possible ; it cannot be so. 

Again : we know that Mr. Colman found the club the 
next day ; that he went directly to the place of deposit, 



os the riUAL i>r „». y. knapp. ^09 

and found it at the first attempt, — exactly where he says 
he had been informed it was. Now, Phippen Knapp says 
that Frank had stated nothing respecting the club, that it 
was not mentioned in that conversation. He says, also, 
that he was present in the cell of Joseph all the time that 
Mr. Colman was there, that he believes he heard all that 
^jvas said in Joseph's cell; and that he did not himself 
know where the club was, and never had known where it 
was, until he heard it stated in court. Now, it is certain, 
that Mr. Colman says he did not learn the particular 
place of deposit of the club from Joseph; that he only 
learned from him that it was deposited under the steps of 
the Howard Street meeting-house, without defining the 
particular steps. It is certain, also, that he had more 
knowledge of the position of the club than this — else how 
v?ould he have placed his hand on it so readily ? and wliese 
else could he have obtained his knowledge, except from 
Frank ? [Here Mr. Dexter said that Mr. Colman had had 
other interviews with Joseph, and might have derived the 
information from him at previous visits. Mr. Webster 
replied, that Mr. Colman had testified that he learned 
nothing in relation to the club until this visit. Mr. Dex- 
ter denied there being any such testimony. Mr. Colman's 
evidence was then read from the notes of the judges, and 
several other persons, and Mr. Webster then proceeded.] 
My point is, to show that Phippen Knapp's story is not 
true, is not consistent with itself. That taking it for 
granted, as he says, that he heard all that was said to Mr. 
Colman in both cells, by Joseph, and by Frank ; and that 
Joseph did not state particularly where the club was de- 
posited ; and that he knew as much about the place of 
deposit of the club, as Mr. Colman knew ; why then, Mr. 
Colman must either have been miraculously informed 
respecting the club, or Phippen Knapp has not told you 

33 



410 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the whole truth. There is no reconciling this, without 
supposing Mr. Colman has misrepresented what took place 
in Joseph's cell, as well as what took place in Frank's 
cell. 

Again, Phippen Knapp is directly contradicted by Mr. 
Wheatland. Mr. Wheatland tells the same story as coming 
from Phippen Knapp, as Mr. Colman now tells. Here 
there are two against one. Phippen Knapp says that 
Frank made no confessions, and that he said he had none 
to make. In this he is contradicted by Wheatland. He, 
Phippen Knapp, told Wheatland, that Mr. Colman did ask 
Frank some questions, and that Frank answered them. 
He told him also what these answers were. Wheatland 
does not recollect the questions or answers, but recollects 
his reply ; which was, " Is not this 'premature ? I think 
this answer is sufficient to make Frank a principal." 
Here Phippen Knapp opposes himself to Wheatland, as 
well as to Mr. Colman. Do you believe Phippen Knapp, 
against these two respectable witnesses — or them against 
him ? 

Is not Mr. Colman's testimony credible, natural, and 
proper ? To judge of this, you must go back to that scene. 

The murder had been committed ; the two Knapps 
were now arrested ; four persons were already in jail 
supposed to be concerned in it, — the Crowninshields and 
Selman and Chase. Another person to the eastward was 
supposed to be in the plot ; it was important to learn the 
facts. To do this, some one of those suspected must be 
admitted to turn State's witness. The contest was, who 
should have this privilege ? It was understood that it was 
about to be offered to Palmer, then in Maine : there was 
no good reason why he should have the preference. Mr. 
Colman felt interested for the family of the Knapps, and 
particularly for Joseph. He was a young man who bad 



ON THE TRIAL OF J F. KNAPP. 417 

hitherto sustained a fair standing in society ; he was a 
husband. Mr. Colman was particularly intimate with his 
family. With these views he w r ent to the prison. He be- 
lieved that he might safely converse with the prisoner, 
because he thought confessions made to a clergyman were 
sacred, and that he could not be called upon to disclose 
them. He went, the first time, in the morning, and was 
requested to come again. He went again at three o'clock; 
and was requested to call again at five o'clock. In the 
mean time he saw the father and Phippen, and they 
wished he would not go again, because it would be said 
the prisoners were making confession. He said he had en- 
gaged to go again at five o'clock ; but would not, if Phip- 
pen would excuse him to Joseph. Phippen engaged to do 
this, and to meet him at his office at five o'clock. Mr. Col- 
man went to the office at the time, and waited; but as Phip- 
pen was not there, he walked down street and saw him 
coming from the jail. He met him, and while in con- 
versation, near the church, he saw Mrs. Beckford and 
Mrs. Knapp, going in a chaise toward the jail. He 
hastened to meet them, as he thought it not proper for 
them to go in at that time. While conversing with them 
near the jail, he received two distinct messages from 
Joseph, that he wished to see him. He thought it proper 
to go: he then went to Joseph's cell, and while there it 
was that the disclosures were made. Before Joseph had 
finished his statement, Phippen came to the door ; he was 
soon after admitted. A short interval ensued, and they 
went together to the cell of Frank. Mr. Colman went in 
by invitation of Phippen : he had come directly from the 
cell of Joseph, where he had for the first time learned the 
incidents of the tragedy. He was incredulous as to some 
of the facts which he had learned, they were so different 
f» ^m his previous impressions. He was desirous of tnow- 



412 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER; 

ing whether he could place confidence in what Joseph had 
told him — he therefore put the questions to Frank, as 
he has testified before you; in answer to which, Frank 
Knapp informed him, 

1. "That the murder took place between ten and eleven 
o'clock." 

2. " That Richard Crowninshield was alone in the 
house." 

8. " That he, Frank Knapp, went home afterward." 

4. " That the club was deposited under the steps of the 
Howard Street meeting-house, and under the part nearest 
the burying-ground, in a rat-hole," &c. 

5. " That the dagger or daggers had been worked up at 
the factory." 

It is said that these five answers just fit the case ; that 
they are just what was wanted, and neither more nor less. 
True, they are, but the reason is, because truth always fits ; 
truth is always congruous, and agrees with itself. Every 
truth in the universe agrees with every other truth in the 
universe ; whereas falsehoods not only disagree with truths, 
but usually quarrel among themselves. Surely Mr. Colman 
is influenced by no bias — no prejudice ; he has no feelings 
to warp him — except now, he is contradicted, he may feel 
an interest to be believed. 

If you believe Mr. Colman, then the evidence is fairly 
in the case. 

I shall now proceed on the ground that you do believe 
Mr. Colman. 

When told that Joseph had determined to confess, the 
defendant said, " It is hard, or unfair, that Joseph should 
have the benefit of confessing, since the thing was done for 
his benefit." What thing was done for his benefit? Does 
not this carry an implication of the guilt of the defendant? 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 418 

Does it not show that he had a knowledge of the object 
and history of the murder ? 

The defendant said, " he told Joseph, when he proposed 
it, that it was a silly business, and would get us into 
trouble." He knew, then, what this business was; he 
knew that Joseph proposed it, and that he agreed to it, 
else he could not get us into trouble ; he understood its 
bearing, and its consequences. Thus much was said under 
circumstances, that make it clearly evidence against him, 
before there is any pretence of an inducement held out. 
And does not this prove him to have had a knowledge of 
the conspiracy ? 

He knew the daggers had been destro} r ed, and he knew 
who committed the murder. How could he have innocently 
known these facts? Why, if by Richard's story, this shows 
him guilty of a knowledge of the murder, and of the con- 
spiracy. More than all, he knew when the deed was done, 
and that he went home afterward. This shows his parti- 
cipation in that deed. "Went home afterward."— Home, 
from what scene? — home, from what fact? — -home, from 
what transaction ? — home, from what place ? This con- 
firms the supposition that the prisoner was in Brown Street 
for the purposes ascribed to him. These questions were 
directly put, and directly answered. He does not intimate 
that he received the information from another. Now, if he 
knows the time, and went home afterward, and does not 
excuse himself, — is not this an admission that he had a 
hand in this murder? Already proved to be a conspirator 
in the murder, he now confesses that he knew who did it— 
at what time it was done, was himself out of his own house 
at the time, and went home afterward. Is not this con- 
clusive, if not explained ? Then comes the club. He told 
where it was. This is like possession of stolen goods. He 
is charged with the guilty knowledge of this concealment. 

35* 



±14 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

He must show, not say, how he came by this knowledge. 
If a man be found with stolen goods, he must prove how 
he came by them. The place of deposit of the club was 
premeditated and selected, and he knew where it was. 

Joseph Knapp was an accessory, and accessory only; he 
knew only what was told him. But the prisoner knew the 
particular spot in which the club might be found. This 
shows his knowledge something more than that of an ac- 
cessory. 

This presumption must be rebutted by evidence, or it 
stands strong against him. He has too much knowledge 
of this transaction, to have come innocently by it. It must 
stand against him until he explains it. . 

This testimony of Mr. Colman is represented as new 
matter, and therefore an attempt has been made to excite 
a prejudice against it. It is not so. How little is there in 
it, after all, that did not appear from other sources ! It is 
mainly confirmatory. Compare what you learn from this 
confession, with what vou before knew. 

As to its being proposed by Joseph : was not that true? 

As to Richard's being alone, &c. in the house : was not 
that true? 

As to the daggers: was not that true? 

As to the time of the murder : was not that true ? 

As to his being out that night: was not that true? 

As to his returning afterward : was not that true ? 

As to the club : was not that true? 

So this information confirms what was known before, and 
fully confirms it. 

One word, as to the interview between Mr. Colman and 
i'hippen Knapp on the turnpike. It is said that Mr. Col- 
man's conduct in this matter is inconsistent with his testi- 
mony. There does not appear to me to be any incon- 
sistency. He tells you that his object was to save Joseph, 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 415 

and to hurt no one ; and least of all the prisoner at the 
bar. He had, probably, told Mr. White the substance of 
what he heard at the prison. He had probably told him 
that Frank confirmed what Joseph had confessed. He was 
unwilling to be the instrument of harm to Frank. He 
therefore, at the request of Phippen Knapp, wrote a note to 
Mr. White, requesting him to consider Joseph as authority 
for the information he had received. He tells you that this 
is the only thing he has to regret ; as it may seem to be an 
evasion, — as he doubts whether it was entirely correct. If 
it was an evasion, if it was a deviation, if it was an error, 
it was an e^ror of mercy ; an error of kindness ; an error 
that proves he had no hostility to the prisoner at the bar. 
It does not in the least vary his testimony, or affect its 
correctness. Gentlemen, I look on the evidence of Mr. 
Colman as highly important ; not as bringing into the 
cause new facts, but as confirming, in a very satisfactory 
manner, other evidence. It is incredible, that he can be 
false, and that he is seeking the prisoner's life through 
false swearing. If he is true, it is incredible that the pri- 
soner can be innocent. 

Gentlemen, I have gone through with the evidence in 
this case, and have endeavored to state it plainly and 
fairly, before you. I think there are conclusions to be 
drawn from it, which you cannot doubt. I think you can- 
not doubt, that there was a conspiracy formed for the pur- 
pose of committing this murder, and who the conspirators 
were. 

That you cannot doubt, that the Crowninshields and the 
Knapps were the parties in this conspiracy. 

That you cannot doubt, that the prisoner at the bar 
knew that the murder was to be done on the night of the 
6th of April. 

That you cannot doubt, that the murderers of Captain 



416 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

White were the suspicious persons seen in and about 
Brown Street on that night. 

That you cannot doubt, that Richard Crowninshield was 
the perpetrator of that crime. 

That you cannot doubt, that the prisoner at the bar was 
in Brown Street on that night. 

If there, then it must be by agreement — to counte- 
nance, to aid the perpetrator. And if so, then he is 
guilty as principal. 

Gentlemen, your whole concern should be to do your 
duty, and leave consequences to take care of themselves. 
You will receive the law from the court. Your verdict, it 
is true, may endanger the prisoner's life ; but then it is to 
save other lives. If the prisoner's guilt has been shown 
and proved beyond all reasonable doubt, you will convict 
him. If such reasonable doubts of guilt still remain, you 
will acquit him. You are the judges of the whole case. 
You owe a duty to the public, as well as to the prisoner at 
the bar. You cannot presume to be wiser than the law. 
Your duty is a plain, straight-fonvard one. Doubtless, 
we would all judge him in mercy. Toward him, as an 
individual, the law inculcates no hostility ; but toward 
him, if proved to be a murderer, the law, and the oaths 
you have taken, and public justice, demand that you dc 
your duty. 

"With consciences satisfied with the discharge of duty, 
no consequences can harm you. There is no evil that we 
cannot either face or fly from, but the consciousness of 
duty disregarded. 

A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent, 
like the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of 
the morning and. dwell in the utmost parts of the seas, 
duty performed, or duty violated, is still with us, for our 
happiness, or our misery. If we say the darkness shall 



ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KXAPP. 



417 



cover us, in the darkness as in the light, our obligations 
are yet with us. We cannot escape their power, nor fly 
from their presence. They are with us in this life, will be 
with us at its close ; and in that scene of inconceivable 
solemnity, which lies yet farther onward, we shall still 
find ourselves surrounded by the consciousness of duty, to 
pain us wherever it has been violated, and to console us 
so far as God may have given us grace to perform it. 



ARGUMENT OF MR. WEBSTER 

IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE 



This argument was addressed to a jury in April, 1817, 
on the occasion of the trial of Levi and Laban Kenniston, 
in the Supreme Judicial Court of the Commonwealth of 
Massachusetts, held at Ipswich, in the county of Essex, for 
an alleged assault and robbery by Levi and Laban, on the 
person of Major Elijah Putnam Goodridge, of Bangor, 
Maine. 

It was true (Mr. Webster said) that the offence charged 
was not capital; but perhaps this could hardly be con- 
sidered as favorable to the defendants. To those who are 
guilty, and without hope of escape, no doubt the lightness 
of the penalty of transgression gives consolation. But if 
the defendants were innocent, it was more natural for them 
to be thinking upon what they had lost, by that alteration 
of the law which had left highway robbery no longer capital, 
than upon what the guilty might gain by it. They had lost 
those great privileges, in their trial, which the law allows, 
in capital cases, for the protection of innocence against 
unfounded accusation. They have lost the right of being 
previously furnished with a copy of the indictment, and a 
list of the Government's witnesses. They have lost the 
right of peremptory challenge ; and, notwithstanding the 
prejudices which they know have been excited against them, 
they must show legal cause of challenge, in each individual 



413 



ARGUMENT IN THE G00D1UDGE CASE. 419 

call, or else take the jury as they find it. They have lost 
the benefit of the assignment of counsel by the court. They 
have lost the benefit of the Commonwealth's process to 
bring in witnesses in their behalf. When to these circum- 
stances it was added that they were strangers, in a great 
degree without friends, and without the means for pre- 
paring their defence, it was evident they must take then 
trial under great disadvantages. 

Mr. Webster then called the attention of the jury to 
those circumstances which he thought could not but cast 
doubts on the story of the prosecutor. 

In the first place, it was impossible to believe a robbery 
of this sort to have been committed by three or four men 
without previous arrangement and concert, and of course 
without the knowledge of the fact that Goodridge would 
be there, and that he had money. They did not go on the 
. highway, in such a place, in a cold December's night, for 
the general purpose of attacking the first passenger, run- 
ning the chance of his being somebody who had money. It 
was not easy to believe that a gang of robbers existed, that 
they acted systematically,, communicating intelligence to 
one another, and meeting and dispersing as occasion re- 
quired, and that this gang had their head-quarters in such 
a place as Newburyport. No town is more distinguished 
for the correctness of the general habits of its citizens ; 
and it is of such a size that every man in it may be known 
to all the rest. The pursuits, occupations, and habits of 
every person within it are within the observation of his 
neighbors. A suspicious stranger would be instantly ob 
served, and all his movements could be easily traced. This 
is not the place to be the general rendezvous of a gang of 
robbers. Offenders of this sort hang on the skirts of great 
cities. From the commission of their crimes they hasten 
into the crowd, and hide themselves in the populousness of 



4'liO SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

.great cities. If it were wholly improbable that a gang 
-existed in such a place for the purpose of general plunder, 
the next inquiry was, Was there any reason to think that 
there had been a special or particular combination, for the 
single purpose of robbing the prosecutor ? Now, it was 
material to observe, that not only was there no evidence 
of any such combination, but also that circumstances did 
exist which rendered it next to impossible that the defend- 
ants could have been parties to such a combination, or even 
that they could have any knowledge of the existence of 
any such man as Goodridge, or that any person, with 
money, was expected to come from the eastward, and to 
be near Essex bridge, at or about nine o'clock that evening. 
One of the defendants had been for some weeks in 
Newburyport — the other passed the bridge from New 
Hampshire, at twelve o'clock, on the 19th. At this time, 
Goodridge had not yet arrived at Exeter, twelve or four- 
teen miles from the bridge. How, then, could either of 
the defendants know that he was coming? Besides, he 
says that nobody knew, on the road, that he had money, 
as far as he knows, and nothing happened till he reached 
Exeter, according to his account, from which it might be 
conjectured that he carried money. Here, as he relates 
it, it became known that he had pistols ; and he must 
wish you to infer, that the plan to rob him was laid here, 
at Exeter, by some of the persons who inferred that he 
had money from his being armed. Who were these per- 
sons V Certainly not the defendants, or either of them. 
Certainly not Taber. Certainly hot Jackman. Were 
they persons of suspicious character ? Was he in a house 
of a suspicious character ? On this point he gives us no 
information. He has either not taken the pains to in- 
uire, or he chooses not to communicate the result of his 
inquiries. Yet nothing could be more important, since he 



ARGUMENT IN THE GOODItlDGE CASE. 421 

seems compelled to lay the scene of the plot against him 
at Exeter, than to know who the persons were that nc 
saw, or that saw him, at that place. On the face of the 
facts now proved, nothing could be more improbable than 
that the plan of robbery was concerted at Exeter. If so, 
why should those who concerted send forward to New- 
buryport to engage the defendants, especially as they did 
not know that they were there ? What should induce any 
persons so suddenly to apply to the defendants to assist in 
a robbery ? There was nothing in their personal charac- 
ter or previous history that should induce this. 

Nor was there time for all this. If the prosecutor had 
not lingered on the road, for reasons not yet discovered, 
he must have been in Newbury port long before the time at 
which he states the robbery to have been committed. 
How, then, could any one expect to leave Exeter, come to 
Newburyport, fifteen miles, there look out for and find out 
assistants for a highway robbery, and get back two miles 
to a convenient place for the commission of the crime ? 
That anybody should have undertaken to act thus, was 
wholly" improbable ; and in point of fact there is not the 
least proof of anybody's travelling, that afternoon, from 
Exeter to Newburyport, or of any person who was at the 
tavern at Exeter having left it that afternoon. In all 
probability, nothing of this sort could have taken place 
without being capable of detection and proof. In every 
particular the prosecutor has wholly failed to show the 
least probability of a plan to rob him having been laid at 
Exeter. 

But how comes it, that Goodridge was near or quite 

four hours and a half in travelling a distance which might 

have been travelled in two hours or two hours and a half? 

He says he missed his way, and went the Salisbury road. 

But some of the jury know, that this could not have 

36 



122 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

delayed him more than five or ten minutes. It would 
be well to be able to give some better account of this 
delay. 

Failing, as he seems to do, to create any belief that a 
plan to rob him was fixed at Exeter, the prosecutor goes 
back to Alfred, and says he saw there a man whom Taber 
resembles. But Taber is proved to have been at that 
time, and ac the time of the robbery, in Boston. This is 
proved beyond question. It is so certain, that the soli- 
citor has noil jwossed the indictment against him. 

There is an end, then, of all pretence of the adoption 
of a scheme of robbery at Alfred : this leaves the pro- 
secutor altogether unable to point out any manner in 
which it should become known that he had money, or in 
which a design to rob him should originate. 

It was next to be considered whether the prosecutor's 
story was either natural or consistent. But, in the 
threshold of the inquiry, every one puts the question, 
What motive had the prosecutor to be guilty of the 
abominable conduct of feigning a robbery? It is diffi- 
cult to assign motives. The jury did not know enough 
of his character or circumstances. Such things had 
happened, and might happen again. Suppose he owed 
money in Boston, and had it not to pay? Who knows 
how high he might estimate the value of a plausible 
apology ? Some men have also a whimsical ambition of 
distinction. There is no end to the variety of modes in 
which human vanity exhibits itself. A story of this na- 
ture excites the public sympathy. It attracts general at- 
tention. It causes the name of the prosecutor to be 
celebrated as a man who has been attacked, and, after a 
manly resistance, overcome by robbers, and who has re- 
newed his resistance as soon as returning life and sensa- 
tion enabled him, and, after a second conflict, has been 



ARGUMENT IN THE GO0LR1DGE CASE. 423 

quite subdued, beaten and bruised out of all sense and 
sensation, and finally left for dead on the field. It is not 
easy to say how far such motives, trifling and ridiculous as 
most men would think them, might influence the prose- 
cutor, when connected with any expectation of favor or in- 
dulgence, if he wanted such, from his creditors. It was 
to be remembered, that he probably did not see all the 
consequences of his conduct, if his robbery be a pretence. 
He might not intend to prosecute anybody. But he pro- 
bably found, and indeed there is evidence to show, that it 
was necessary for him to do something to find out the 
authors of the alleged robbery. He manifested no par- 
ticular zeal on this subject. He was in no haste. He 
appears rather to have been pressed by others to do that 
which we should suppose he would be most earnest to do, 
the earliest moment. 

But could he so seriously wound himself ? could he or 
would he shoot a pistol-bullet through his hand, in order to 
render the robbery probable, and to obtain belief in his 
story ? All exhibitions are subject to accidents. Whether 
they are serious or farcical, they may, in some particulars, 
not proceed exactly as they are designed to do. If we 
knew that this shot through the hand, if made by him- 
self, must have been intentionally made by himself, it would 
be a circumstance of greater weight. The bullet went 
through the sleeve of his coat. He might intend it 
should have gone through nothing else. It was quite cer- 
tain he did not receive this wound in the way he described. 
He says he was pulling or thrusting aside the robber's 
pistol, and while his hand was on it, it was fired, and the 
contents passed through his hand. This could not have 
been so, because no part of the contents went through the 
hand, except the ball. There was powder on the sleeve 
of his coat, and from the appearance one would think the 



424 SPEECHES OF DANlEL \YO*i L il. 

pistol to have been three or four feet from the hand when 
fired. The fact of the pistol-bullet being fired through the 
hand is doubtless a circumstance of weight. It may not 
be easy to account for it ; but it is to be weighed with other 
circumstances. 

It was most extraordinary, that, in the whole case, the 
prosecutor should prove hardly any fact in any way but by 
his own oath. He chooses to trust every thing on his own 
credit with the jury. Had he the money with him, which 
he mentions ? If so, his clerks or persons connected with 
him in business must have known it; yet no witness is pro- 
duce']. Nothing can be more important than to prove that 
he had the money. Yet he does not prove it. Why should 
he leave this essential fact without further support ? He 
is not surprised with this defence : he knew what it would 
be. He knew that nothing could be more important than 
to prove that in truth he did possess the money which he 
says he lost ; yet he does not prove it. All that he saw, 
and all that he did, and every thing that occurred to him 
until after the alleged robbery, rests solely on his own 
credit. He does not see fit to corroborate any fact by the 
testimony of any witness. So he went to New York to 
arrest Jackman. He did arrest him. He swears positively 
that he found in his possession papers which he lost at the 
time of the robbery ; yet he neither produces the papers 
themselves, nor the persons who assisted in the search. 

In like manner he represents his intercourse with Tabei 
at Boston. Taber, he says, made certain confessions 
They made a bargain for a disclosure or confession on on* 
side, and a reward on the other. But no one heard thest 
confessions except Goodridge himself. Taber now con- 
fronts him, and pronounces this part of the story to be 
wholly false ; and there is nobody who can support the 
prosecutor. 



ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 425 

A jury cannot too seriously reflect on this part of the 
case. There are many most important allegations of fact, 
which, if true, could easily be shown by other witnesses, 
and yet are not so shown. 

How came Mr. Goodridge to set out from Bangor, armed 
in this formal and formidable manner ? How came he to 
be so apprehensive of a robbery ? The reason he gives is 
completely ridiculous. As the foundation of his alarm, he 
tells a story of a robbery which he had heard of, but which, 
as far as appears, no one else ever heard of; and the story 
itself is so perfectly absurd, it is difficult to resist the belief 
that it was the product of his imagination at the moment. 
He seems to have been a little too confident that an attempt 
would be made to rob him. The manner in which he carried 
his money, as he says, indicated a strong expectation of 
this sort. His gold he wrapped in a cambric cloth, put it 
into a shot-bag, and then into his portmanteau. One 
parcel of bills, of a hundred dollars in amount, he put into 
his pocket-book ; another, of somewhat more than a thou- 
sand dollars, he carried next his person, underneath all 
his clothes. Having disposed of his money in this way, 
and armed himself with two good pistols, he set out from 
Bangor. The jury would judge whether this extraordinary 
care of his money, and this formal arming of himself to 
defend it, did not appear a good deal suspicious. 

He stated that he did not travel in the night ; that he 
would not so much expose himself to robbers. He said 
that, when he came near Alfred, he did not go into the 
village, but stopped a few miles short, because night was 
coming on, and he would not trust himself and his money 
out at night. He represents himself to have observed this 
rule constantly and invariably until he got to Exeter. Yet, 
when the time came for the robbery, he was found out at 
night. He left Exeter about sunset, intending to go to 

36* 



120 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEESTEK. 

Newburyport, fifteen miles distant, Hhat evening. When 
he is asked how this should happen, he says he had no fear 
of robbers after he left the District of Maine. He thought 
himself quite safe when he arrived at Exeter. Yet he told 
the jury that at Exeter he thought it necessary to load his 
pistol afresh. He asked for a private room at the inn. He 
told the persons in attendance that he wished such a room 
for the purpose of changing his clothes. .He charged them 
not to suffer him to be interrupted. But he says his object 
was not to change his dress, but to put new loading into his 
pistol. What sort of a story is this ? 

He says he now felt himself out of all danger from rob- 
bers, and was therefore willing to travel at night. At the 
same time, he thought himself in very great danger from 
robbers, and therefore took the utmost pains co keep his 
pistols well loaded and in good order. To account for the 
pains he took about loading his pistols at Exeter, he says 
it was his invariable practice, every day after he left Ban- 
gor, to discharge and load again one or both of his pistols ; 
that he never missed doing this ; that he avoided doing it 
at the inns, lest he should create suspicion, but that he did 
it, while alone, on the road, every day. 

How far this was probable the jury would judge. It 
would be observed that he gave up his habits of caution as 
he approached the place of the robbery. He then loaded 
his pistols at the tavern, where persons might and did see 
him ; and he then also travelled in the. night. He passed 
the bridge over Merrimack River a few minutes before 
nine o'clock. He was now at a part of his progress where 
lie was within the observation of other witnesses, and 
something could be known of him besides what he told of 
himself. Immediately after him passed the two persona 
with their wagons— Shaw and Keyser. Close upon them 
followed the mail-stage. Now, these wagons and the stage 



ARGUMENT IN TFtK GOODRlfiGE CASE. 42? 

must have passed within three rods, at most, of Goodridge, 
at the very time of the robbery. They must have been 
very near the spot, the very moment of the attack ; and 
if he was under the robbers' hands as long as he repre- 
sents, or if they stayed on the spot long enough to do half 
what he says they did do, they must have been there 
when the wagons and the stage passed. At any rate, it is 
next to impossible, by any computation of time, to put 
these carriages so far from the spot, as that the drivers 
should not have heard the cry of murder, which he says he 
raised, or the report of the two pistols, which he says were 
discharged. In three-quarters of an hour, or an hour, he 
returned, and repassed the bridge. 

The jury would next naturally look to the appearances 
exhibited on" the field, after the robbery. The portman- 
teau was there. The witnesses say, that the straps which 
fastened it to the saddle had been neither cut nor broken. 
They were carefully uubuckled. This was very con- 
siderate for robbers. It had been opened, and its con- 
tents were scattered about the field. The pocket-book, 
too, had been opened, and many papers it contained found 
on the ground. Nothing valuable was lost but money. 
The robbers did not think it well to go oif at once with 
the portmanteau and the pocket-book. The place was sc 
secure, so remote, so unfrequented — they were so fai 
from the highway, at least one full rod — there were so 
few persons passing, probably not more than four or five 
then in the road, within hearing of the pistols and the 
cries of Goodridge — there being, too, not above five or 
six dwelling-houses, full of people, within the hearing of 
the report of a pistol ; — these circumstances were all so 
favorable to their safety, that the robbers sat down to look 
over the prosecutor's papers, carefully examined the con- 
tents of his pocket-book and portmanteau, and took only 



428 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the things which they needed ! There was money belongs 
ing to other persons. - The robbers did not take it. They 
found out it was not the prosecutor's, and left it. It may 
be said to be favorable to the prosecutor's story, that the 
money which did not belong to him, and the plunder of 
which would seem to be the most probable inducement he 
could have to feign a robbery, was not taken. But the 
jury would consider whether this circumstance did not bear 
quite as strong the other way, and whether they can be- 
lieve that robbers could have left this money either from 
accident or design. 

The robbers, by Goodriclge's account, were extremely 
careful to search his person. Having found money in his 
portmanteau and in his pocket-book, they still forthwith 
stripped him to the skin, and searched until they found 
the sum which had been so carefully deposited under his 
clothes. Was it likely, that, having found money in the 
places where it is ordinarily carried, robbers should pro- 
ceed to search for more, where they had no reason to sup- 
pose more would be found ? Goodridge says that no 
person knew of his having put his bills in that situation. 
On the first attack, however, they proceeded to open one 
garment after another, until they penetrated to the trea- 
sure, which was beneath them all. 

The testimony of Mr. Howard was material. He exa- 
mined Goodridge's pistol, which was found on the spot, 
and thinks it had not been fired at all. If this be so, it 
would follow that the wound through the hand was not 
made by this pistol ; but, then, as the pistol was then dis- 
charged, if it had not been fired, he is not correct in 
gwearing that he fired it at the robbers, nor could it have 
been loaded at Exeter, as he testified. 

In the whole case, there was nothing perhaps more de- 
serving consideration, than the prosecutor's statement of 



ARGUMENT IX THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 429 

the violence which the robbers used toward him. He says 
he was struck with a heavy club, on the back part of his 
head. He fell senseless to the ground. Three or four 
rough-handed ruffians then dragged him to the fence, and 
through it or over it, with such force as to break one of 
the boards. They then plundered his money. Presently 
he came to his senses ; perceived his situation ; saw one 
of the robbers sitting or standing near : he valiantly 
sprung upon, and would have overcome him, but the ruf- 
fian called out for his comrade's, who returned, and all 
together they renewed their attack upon, subdued him, 
and redoubled their violence. They struck him heavy 
blows ; they threw him violently to the ground ; -the} 
kicked him in the side ; they choked him ; one of them, 
to use his own words, jumped upon his breast. They left 
him only when they supposed they had killed him. He 
went back to Pearson's, at the bridge, in a state of de- 
lirium, and it was several hours before his recollection 
came to him. This is his account. Now, in point of fact, 
it was certain that on no part of his person was there the 
least mark of this beating and wounding. The blow on 
the head, which brought him senseless to the ground, 
neither broke the skin, nor caused any tumor, nor left any 
mark whatever. He fell from his horse on the frozen 
ground, without any appearance of injury. He was drawn 
through or over the fence with such force as to break the 
rail, but not at all to leave any wound or scratch on him. 
A second time he is knocked down, kicked, stamped 
upon, choked, and in every way abused and beaten till 
sense had departed, and the breath of life hardly re- 
mained ; and yet no wound, bruise, discoloration, or mark 
of injury, was found to result from all this. Except the 
wound in his hand, and a few slight punctures in his left 
arm, apparently made with his own penknife, which was 



480 SPEECHES <:<i DANIEL WEBSTER.. 

found open on the spot, there was no wound or mark 
which the surgeons, upon repeated examinations, could 
anywhere discover. This was a story not to be believed. 
No matter who tells it, it is so impossible to be true, that 
all belief is set at defiance. No man can believe it. All 
this tale of blows which left no marks, and of wounds which 
could not be discovered, must be the work of imagination. 
If the jury could believe that he was robbed, it was im- 
possible they should or could b'elieve his account of the 
manner of it. 

With respect, next, to delirium. The jury had heard 
the physicians. Two of them had no doubt it was all 
feigned. Dr. Spofford had spoken in a more qualified man- 
ner, but it was very evident his opinion agreed with theirs. 
In the height of his raving, the physician who was present 
said to others, that he could find nothing the matter of the 
man, and that his pulse was perfectly regular. But con- 
sider the facts which Dr. Balch testifies. He suspected the 
whole of this illness and delirium to be feigned. He wished 
to ascertain the truth. While he or others was present, 
Goodridge appeared to be in the greater pains and agony 
from his wounds. He could not turn himself in bed, nor 
be turned by others, without infinite distress. His mind, 
too, was as much disordered as his body. He was con- 
stantly raving about robbery and murder. At length the 
physicians and others withdrew, and left him alone in the 
room. Dr. Balch returned softly to the door, which he had 
left partly open, and there he had a full view of his patient 
unobserved by him. Goodridge was then very quiet. His 
incoherent exclamations had ceased. Dr. Balch saw him 
turn over in bed without inconvenience. Pretty soon he 
sat up in bed, and adjusted his neckcloth and his hair. 
Then, hearing footsteps on the staircase, he instantly 
sunk int) the bed again; his pains all returned, and he 



ARGUMENT IN THE liOuDIUDGE CASE. 481 

cried out against robbers and murderers as loud as ever. 
Now, these facts are all sworn to by an intelligent witness, 
who cannot be mistaken in them — a respectable physician, 
whose veracity or accuracy is in no way impeached or 
questioned. After this, it was difficult to retain any good 
opinion of the prosecutor. Robbed or not robbed, this 
was his conduct; and such conduct necessarily takes away 
all claim to- sympathy and respect. The jury would con- 
sider whether it did not also take away all right to be 
believed in any thing. For if they should be of opinion 
that in any one point he had intentionally misrepresented 
facts, he could be believed in nothing. No man was to be 
convicted on the testimony of a witness whom the jury had 
found wilfully violating the truth in any particular. 

The next part of the case was, the conduct of the pro- 
secutor, in attempting to find out the robbers, after he had 
recovered from his illness. He suspected Mr. Pearson, a 
very honest, respectable man, who keeps the tavern at the 
bridge. He searched his house and premises. He sent for 
a conjurer to come, with his metallic rods and witch-hazel, 
to find the stolen money. Goodridge says now that he 
thought he should find it, if the conjurer's instruments 
were properly prepared. He professes to have full faith 
in the art. Was this folly, or fraud, or a strange mixture 
of both ? Pretty soon after the last search, gold pieces 
were actually found near Mr. Pearson's house, in the man- 
ner stated by the female witness. How came they there ? 
Did the robber deposit them there? That is not possible. 
Did he accidentally leave them there ? Why should not a 
robber take as good care of his money as others? It is 
certain, too, that the gold pieces were not put there at the 
time of the robbery, because .the ground was then bare; 
but when these pieces were found, there were several inches 
uf snow below them. When Goodridge searched here with 



43l2 SPEECHES OF DANIEL W'EBSTEK. 

his conjurer, he was on this spot, alone and unobserved, as 
he thought. Whether he did not, at that time, drop his 
gold into the snow, the jury will judge. When he came 
to this search, he proposed something very ridiculous. He 
proposed that all persons about to assist in the search 
should be examined, to see that they had nothing which 
they could put into Pearson's possession, for the purpose of 
beino- found there. But how was this examination to be made? 
Why, truly, Goodridge proposed that every man should exa- 
mine himself, and that, among others, he would examine 
himself, till he was satisfied he had nothing in his pockets, 
which he could leave at Pearson's, with the fraudulent de- 
sign of being afterward found there, as evidence against Pear- 
son. What construction would be given to such conduct? 

As to Jackman, Goodridge went to New York and 
arrested him. In his room he says he found paper cover- 
ings of gold, with his own figures on them, and pieces of 
an old and useless receipt, which he can identify, and 
which he had in his possession at the time of the robbery. 
He found these things lying on the floor in Jackman's 
room. What should induce the robbers, when they left all 
other papers, to take this receipt? and what should induce 
Jackman to carry it to New York, and keep it with the 
coverings of the gold, in a situation where it was likely to 
be found, and used as evidence against him ? 

There was no end to the series of improbabilities grow- 
ing out of the prosecutor's story. 

0. e thing especially deserves notice. Wherever Good- 
ridge searches, he always finds something ; and what he 
finds, he always can identify and swear to, as being his. 
The thing found has always some marks by which he 
Knows it. Yet he never finds much. He never finds the 
mass of his lost treasure. He finds just enough to be evi- 
dence, and no more. 



ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRlDGE CASE. 433 

These were the circumstances which tended to raise 
doubts of the truth of the prosecutor's relation. It was 
for the jury to say, whether it would be safe to convict 
any man for this robbery, until their doubts should be 
cleared up. No doubt they were to judge him candidly ; 
hut they were not to make every thing yield to a regard to 
his reputation, or a desire to vindicate him from the sus- 
picion of a fraudulent prosecution. 

He stood like other witnesses, except that he was a very 
interested witness ; and he must hope for credit, if at all, 
from the consistency and general probability of the facts 
to which he testified. The jury would not convict the 
prisoners to save the prosecutor from disgrace. He had 
had every opportunity of making out his case. If any 
person in the State could have corroborated any part of 
his story, that person he could have produced. He had 
had the benefit of full time, and good counsel, and of the 
Commonwealth's process to bring in his witnesses. More 
than all, he had had an opportunity of telling his own 
story, with the simplicity that belongs to truth, if it were 
true, and the frankness and earnestness of an honest man, 
if he be such. It was- for the jury to say, under their 
oaths, how he had acquitted himself in these particulars, 
and whether he had left their minds free of doubt about 
the truth of his narration. 

But if Goodridge were really robbed, was there satis- 
factory evidence that the defendants had a hand in the 
commission of this offence? The evidence relied on is the 
finding of the money in their house. It appeared that 
these defendants lived together, and, with a sister, con- 
stituted one family. Their father lived in another part 
of the same house, and with his wife constituted another 
and distinct family. In this house, some six weeks after 

37 



434 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the robbery, the prosecutor made a search ; and the re« 
suit has been stated by the witnesses. Now, if the money 
had been passed, or used by the defendants, it might have 
been conclusive. If found about their persons, it might 
have been very strong proof. But, under the circum- 
stances of this case, the mere finding of money in their 
house, and that only in places where the prosecutor had 
previously been, was no evidence at all. With respect tc 
the gold pieces, it was certainly true, that they were found 
in Goodridge's track. They were found only where he 
had been, and might have put them. 

When the sheriff was in the house, and Goodridge in 
the cellar, gold was found in the cellar. When the sheriff 
was up stairs, and Goodridge in the rooms below, the 
sheriff was called down to look for money where Good- 
ridge directed, and there money was found. As to the 
bill, the evidence is not quite so clear. Mr. Leavitt says 
he found a bill, in a drawer, in a room in which none of 
the party had before been ; that he thought it an un- 
current or counterfeit bill, and not a part of Goodridge's 
money, and left it where he found it, without further 
notice. An hour or two afterward, Upton perceived a bill 
in the same drawer, — Goodridge being then with or near 
him, — and called to Leavitt. Leavitt told him that he 
had discovered that bill before, but that it could not be 
Goodridge's. The bill was then examined. Leavitt says 
he looked at it, and saw writing on the back of it. Upton 
says he looked at it, and saw writing on the back of it* 
He says also that it was shown to Goodridge, who exa- 
mined it in the same way that he and Leavitt examined 
it. None of the party at this time suspected it to be 
Goodridge's. It was then put into Leavitt's pocket-book, 
where it remained till evening, when it was taken out at 



ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRILXiE CASE. 43> 

tne tavern ; and then it turned out to be, plainly and 
clearly, one of Goodridge's bills, and had the name of 
"James Poor, Bangor," in Goodridge's own handwriting, 
on the back of it. The first thing that strikes one, in 
this account, is, why w T as not this discovery made at the 
time ? Goodridge was looking for bills, as well as gold. 
He was looking for Boston bills — for such he had lost. He 
was looking for ten-dollar bills — for such he had lost. He 
was looking for bills which he could recognise and identify 
He would, therefore, naturally be particularly attentive to 
any writing or marks upon such as he might find. Under 
these circumstances, a bill is found in the house of the 
supposed robbers. It is a Boston bill — it is a ten-dollar 
bill — it has writing on the back of it — that writing is the 
name of his town, and the name of one of his neighbors — 
more than all, that writing is his own handwriting ! — 
notwithstanding all this, neither Goodridge, nor Upton, 
nor the sheriff, examined the bill, so as to see whether it 
was Goodridge's money. Notwithstanding it so fully re- 
sembled, in all points, the money they were looking for, 
and notwithstanding they also saw writing on the back of 
it, which they must know, if they read it, would probably 
have shown where the bill came from, yet neither of them 
did so far examine it as to see any proof of its being 
Goodridge's. This was hardly to be believed. It must 
be a pretty strong faith in the prosecutor that could credit 
this story. In every part of it, it was improbable and 
absurd. It was much more easy to believe, that the bill 
was changed. There might have been, and there pro- 
bably was, an uncurrent or counterfeit bill found in the 
drawer by Leavitt. He certainly did not at the time 
think it to be Goodridge's, and he left it in the drawer 
where he found it. Before he saw it again, the prosecutor 



486 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 

had been in that room, and was in or near it when the 
sheriff was again called in. and asked to put that bill in 
his pocket-book. How did the jury know, that this wa3 
the same bill which Leavitt had before seen ? Or, suppose 
it was ; Leavitt carried it to Coffin's ; in the evening he 
produced it, and, after having been handed about for some 
time among the company, it turned out to be Goodridge's 
bill, and to have upon it infallible marks of identity. 
How did the jury know, that a sleight of hand had not 
changed the bill at Coffin's ? It is sufficient to say, the 
bill might have been changed. It is not certain, that this 
is the bill which Leavitt first found in the drawer — and 
this not being certain, it is not proof against the de- 
fendants. 

Was it not extremely improbable, if the defendants were 
guilty, that they should deposit the money in the places 
where it was found ? Why should they put it in small 
parcels in so many places, for no end but to multiply the 
chances of detection ? Why, especially, should they put 
a doubloon in their father's pocket-book ? There is no 
evidence, nor any ground of suspicion, that the father 
knew of the money being in his pocket-book. He swears 
he did not know it. His general character is unimpeached, 
and there is nothing against his credit. The inquiry at 
Stratham was calculated to elicit the truth ; and, after all, 
there is not the slightest reason to suspect that he knew 
that the doubloon was in his pocket-book. What could 
possibly induce the defendants to place it there ? No man 
can conjecture a reason. On the other hand, if this were 
a fraudulent proceeding on the part of the prosecutor, this 
circumstance could be explained. He did not know that 
the pocket-book, and the garment in which it was found, 
did not belong to one of the defendants. He was as 



. 



ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 487 

likely, therefore, to place it there as elsewhere. It was 
very material to -consider that nothing; was found in that 
part of the house which belonged to the defendants. 
Every thing was discovered in the father's apartments. 
They were not found, therefore, in the possession of the 
defendants, any more than if they had been discovered in 
any other house in the neighborhood. The two tenements, 
it was true, were under the same roof; but they were not 
on that account the same tenements : they were as dis- 
tinct as any other houses. Now, how should it happen 
that the several parcels of money should all be found in 
the father's possession ? He is not suspected — certainly 
there is no reason to suspect him — of having had any hand 
either in the commission of the robbery, or the concealing 
of the goods. He swears he had no knowledge of any part 
of this money being in his house. It is not easy to 
imagine how it came there, unless it be supposed to be put 
there by some one who did not know what part of the 
house belonged to the defendants, and what did not. 

The witnesses on the part of the prosecution have testi- 
fied that the defendants, when arrested, manifested great 
agitation and alarm ; paleness overspread their faces, ami 
drops of sweat stood on their temples. This satisfied the 
witnesses of the defendants' guilt, and they now state the 
circumstance as being indubitable proof. This argument 
manifests in those who use it equal want of sense and sen- 
sibility. It is precisely fitted to the feeling and the intel- 
lect of a bum-bailiff. In a court of justice it deserves 
nothing but contempt. Is there nothing that can agitate 
the frame, or excite the blood, but the consciousness of 
guilt ? If the defendants were innocent, would they not 
feel indignation at this unjust accusation ? If they saw an 

attempt to produce false evidence against them, would 

37* 



438 speeches of daxiel webster. 

they not be angry? And, seeing the production of sucL 
evidence, might they not feel fear and {J.arm? And have 
indignation, and anger, and terror, no power to affect the 
human countenance, or the human frame ? 

Miserable, miserable, indeed, is the reasoning which 
would infer any man's guilt from his agitation, when he 
found himself accused of a heinous offence ; when he saw 
evidence, which he might know to be false and fraudulent, 
brought against him ; when his house was filled, from the 
garret to the cellar, by those whom he might esteem as 
false witnesses; and when he himself, instead of being at 
liberty to observe their conduct and watch their motions, 
was a prisoner in close custody in his own house, with the 
fists of a catch-poll clenched upon his throat. 

The defendants were at Newburyport the afternoon and 
evening of the robbery. For the greater part of the time, 
they show where they were and what they were doing. 
Their proof, it is true, does not apply to every moment. 
But when it is considered that, from the moment of their 
arrest, they have been in close prison, perhaps they have 
shown as much as could be expected. Few men, when 
.called on afterward, can remember, and fewer still can 
prove, how they have passed every half-hour of an evening. 
At a reasonable hour they both came to the house where 
La ban had lodged the night before. Nothing suspicious 
was observed in their manners or conversation. Is it pro- 
bable they would thus come unconcernedly into the com- 
pany of others from a field of robbery, and, as they must 
have supposed, of murder, before they could have ascer- 
tained whether the stain of blood was not on their gar- 
ments ? They remained in the place a part of the next 
day. The town was alarmed ; a strict inquiry was made 
of all strangers, and of the defendants, among others. 



aRGTMENT IN TlfB OnoDiafHR CASE. 430 

Nothing suspicious was discovered. They avoided no 
inquiry, nor left the town in any haste. The jury had 
had an opportunity of seeing the defendants. Did their 
general appearance indicate that hardihood which would 
enable them to act this cool, unconcerned part? Was it 
not more likely they would have fled? 

From the time of the robbery to the arrest, five or six 
weeks, the defendants had been engaged in their usual oc- 
cupations. They are not found to have passed a dollar of 
money to anybody. They continued their ordinary habits 
of labor. No man saw money about them, nor any ciiv 
cumstance that might lead to a suspicion that they had 
money. • Nothing occurred tending in any degree to excite 
suspicion against them. When arrested, and when all this 
array of evidence was made against them, and when they 
could hope in nothing but their innocence, immunity was 
offered them again if they would confess. They were 
pressed, and urged, and allured, by every motive which 
could be set before them, to acknowledge their participa- 
tion in the offence, and to bring out their accomplices. 
They steadily protested that they could confess nothing, 
because they knew nothing. In defiance of all the dis- 
coveries made in their house, they have trusted to their 
innocence. On that, and on the candor and discernment 
of an enlightened jury, they still relied. 

If the jury were satisfied, that there was the highest 
improbability that these persons could have had any pre- 
vious knowledge of Groodridge, or been concerned in any 
previous concert to rob him ; if their conduct that evening 
and the next day was marked by no circumstances of sus- 
picion ; if, from that moment until their arrest, nothing 
appeared against them ; if they neither passed money, nor 
are found to have had money ; if the manner of the search 



440 



SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 



of their house, and the circumstances attending it, excite 
strong suspicions of unfair and fraudulent practices ; if, in 
the hour of their utmost peril, no promises of safety could 
draw from the defendants any confessions affecting them- 
selves or others, — it would be for the jury to say whether 
they could pronounce them guilty. 









OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 



I. 

SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES, 

Tuesday, December 14, 1852. 



After various topics of the Message of the President 
had been referred to the appropriate committees, Mr. 
Davis rose, and addressed the Senate as follows : 

Mr. President : I rise to bring to the notice of the 
Senate an event which has touched the sensibilities and 
awakened sympathies in all parts of the country, an event 
which has appropriately found a place in the message of 
the President, and ought not to be passed in silence by the 
Senate. Sir, we have, within a short space, mourned the 
death of a succession of men illustrious by their services, 
their talents, and worth. Not only have seats in this 
Chamber, in the other House, and upon the bench of tho 
Court, been vacated, but death has entered the Executive 
Mansion and claimed that beloved patriot who filled the 
Chair of State. 

The portals of the tomb had scarcely closed upon the 
remains of a great and gifted member of this House, before 
they are again opened to receive another marked man of 
our day — one who stood out with a singular prominence 
before his* countrymen, challenging, by his extraordinary 
intellectual power, the admiration of his fellow-men. 

Daniel Webster, (a name familiar in the remotest cabin 
upon the frontier,) after mixing actively with the councils 

1 441 



442 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

of his country for forty years, and having reached the 
limits of life assigned to mortals, has descended to the 
mansions of the dead, and the damp earth now rests upon 
his manly form. 

That magic voice, which was wont to fill this place with 
admiring listeners, is hushed in eternal silence. The mul- 
titude will no longer bend in breathless attention from the 
galleries to catch his words, and to watch the speaking 
eloquence of his countenance, animated by the fervor of 
his mind ; nor will the Senate again be instructed by the 
outpourings of his profound intellect, matured by long 
experience, and enriched by copious streams from the 
fountains of knowledge. The thread of life is cut; the 
immortal is separated from the mortal ; and the products 
of a great and cultivated mind are all that remain to us of 
the jurist and legislator. 

Few men have attracted so large a share of public atten- 
tion, or maintained for so long a period an equal degree of 
mental distinction. In this and the other House there 
were rivals for fame, and he grappled in debate with the 
master-minds of the day, and achieved in such manly con- 
flict the imperishable renown connected with his name. 

Upon most of the questions which have been agitated in 
Congress during his period of service, his voice was heard. 
Few orators have equalled him in a masterly power of 
condensation, or in that clear logical arrangement of proofs 
and arguments which secures the attention of the hearer, 
and holds it with unabated interest. 

These speeches have been preserved, and many of them 
will be read as forensic models, and will command admira- 
tion for their great display of intellectual power and ex- 
tensive r'esearch. This is not a suitable occasion to discuss 
the merits of political productions, or to compare them 
with the effusions of great contemporaneous minds, or to 
speak of the principles advocated. All this belongs to the 
future, and history will assign each great name the mea- 
sure of its enduring fame. 

Mr. Webster was conspicuous not only among the most 
illustrious men in the halls of legislation, but his fame 
shone with undiminished lustre in the judicial tribunals as 
un advocate, where he participated in many of the most 



OBIT U All Y ADDRESSES. 443 

important discussions. On the bench were Marshall, Story, 
and their brethren— men of patient research and compre- 
hensive scope of intellect— who have left behind them, in 
our judicial annals, proofs of greatness which will secure 
profound veneration and respect for their names. At the 
bar stood Pinckney, Wirt, Emmett, and many others who 
adorned and gave exalted character to the profession. 
Amid these luminaries of the bar he discussed many of the 
great questions raised in giving construction to organic 
law; and no one shone with more intense brightness, or 
brought into the conflict of mind more learning, higher- 
proofs of severe mental discipline, or more copious illustra- 
tion. 

Among such men, and in such honorable combat, the 
foundations of that critical knowledge of constitutional 
law, which afterward became a prominent feature of his 
character, and entered largely into his opinions as a legis- 
lator, were laid. 

The arguments made at this forum displayed a careful 
research into the history of the formation of the Federal 
Union, and an acute analysis of the fundamental provisions 
of the Constitution. 

Probably no man has penetrated deeper into the prin- 
ciples, or taken a more comprehensive and complete view 
of the Union of the States, than that great man, Chief- 
Justice Marshall. No question was so subtle as to elude 
his grasp, or so complex as to defy his penetration. Even 
the great and the learned esteemed it no condescension to 
listen to the teachings of his voice ; and no one profited 
more by his wisdom, or more venerated his character, than 
Mr. \\ ebster. 

^•i T Ar St w d am ° ng SUch men with marked distinction, as 
did Mr. Webster, is an association which might satisfy any 
ambition, whatever might be its aspirations. But there, 
among those illustrious men, who have finished their labors 
and gone to their final homes, he made his mark strong 
and deep, which will be seen and traced by posterity. 

But I need not dwell on that which is familiar to all 
readers. who feel an interest in such topics; nor need I 
notice the details of his private life— since hundreds of 
pens have been employed in revealing all the facts, and in 



444 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

# 

describing, in the most vivid manner, all the scenes which 
have been deemed attractive ; nor need I reiterate the 
fervent language of eulogy which has been poured out in 
all quarters from the press, the pulpit, the bar, legislative 
bodies, and public assemblies — since his own productions 
constitute his best eulogy. 

I could not, if I were to attempt it, add any thing to the 
strength or beauty of the manifold evidences which have 
been exhibited of the length, the breadth and height of 
his fame ; nor is there any occasion for such proofs in the 
Senate — the place where his face was familiar, where many 
of his greatest efforts were made, and where his intellectual 
powers were appreciated. Here he was seen and heard, 
and nowhere else will his claim to great distinction be more 
cheerfully admitted. 

But the places which have known him will know him no 
more ! His form will never rise here again ; his voice will 
not be heard, nor his expressive countenance seen. He is 
dead. In his last moments he was surrounded by his 
family and friends at his own home ; and, while consoled 
by their presence, his spirit took its flight to other regions. 
All that remained has been committed to its kindred earth. 
Divine Providence gives us illustrious men, b.ut they, like 
others, when their mission is ended, yield to the inexorable 
law of our being. He who gives also takes away, but never 
forsakes his faithful children. 

The places of those possessing uncommon gifts are 
vacated, the sod rests upon the once manly form, now as 
cold and lifeless as itself, and the living are filled with 
gloom and desolation. But the world rolls on; Nature 
loses none of its charms; the sun rises with undiminished 
splendor ; the grass loses none of its freshness; nor do the 
flowers cease to fill the air with fragrance. Nature, un- 
touched by human woe, proclaims the immutable law of 
Providence, that decay follows growth, and that He who 
takes away never fails to give. 

"Sir, I propose the following resolutions, believing that 
they wiil meet the cordial approbation of the Senate: 

Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
sensibility the annunciation from the President of the death 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 445 

» 

of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, wno was 
Ion oj a highly distinguished member of this bod v. 

Resotvea, That the Senate will manifest its respect for 
the memory of the deceased, and its sympathy with his 
bereaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning 
for thirty days. 

Resolved, That these proceedings be communicated to 
the House of Representatives. 



II. 

MR. BUTLER. 

Mr. President : This is an occasion full of interesting 
but melancholy associations, and one that especially ap- 
peals to mj feelings and sense of justice™ I might almost 
say historical justice — as a representative of South Caro- 
lina. Who, that were present, can ever forget the mourn- 
ful and imposing occasion when Daniel Webster, whose 
eloquence and ability had given distinction to the greatest 
deliberative assembly and the most august tribunal of 
justice in this great Confederacy; and when Henry Clay 
— a name associated with all that is daring in action and 
splendid in eloquence — rose as witnesses before the tribunal 
of history, and gave their testimony as to the character 
and services of their illustrious compeer, John Caldwell 
Calhoun ? They embalmed in historical immortality their 
rival, associate, and comrade. 

I would that I could borrow from the spirit of my great 

countryman something of its justice and magnanimity, that 

I might make some requital for the distinguished tributes 

paid to his memory by his illustrious compeers. Such an 

occasion as the one I have referred to, is without parallel 

in the history of this Senate; and, sir. I fear that there is 

no future for such another one. Calhoun, Clay, and Web- 

ster — like Pitt, Fox, and Burke — have made a picture on 

our history that will be looked upon as its culminating 

splendor. They Were luminaries that, in many points of 

as 



44f> OuTTU-AUY ABD-nKPSE^. 

view, essentially differed from each -other, as one star dif- 
fereth from another; but they were all stars of the first 
magnitude. Distance cannot destroy, nor can time diminish 
the simple splendor of their light for the guidance and in 
struction of an admiring posterity. 

Rivals they were on a great and eventful theatre of 
political life; but death has given them a common fame. 

Eadeni arena, 
Communis virtu?, atque perennis deeus, 
Victrix causa parem meritis et victa favorem 
Viudicat, aeternum vivere fama dedit. 

Their contest in life was for the awards of public opinion 
— the great lever in modern times by which nations are to 
be moved. 

" With more than mortal powers endow'd, 
How high they soar'd above the crowd! 
Theirs was no common party race, 
Jostling by dark intrigue for place : 
Like fabled gods, their mighty war 
Shook realms and nations in its jar!" 

Before I became a member of the Senate, of which 1 
found Mr. Webster a distinguished ornament, I had formed 
a verv high estimate of his abilities — and from various 
sources of high authority. His mind, remarkable for its 
large capacity, was enriched with rare endowments — with 
the knowledge of a statesman, the learning of a jurist, and 
the attainments of a scholar. In this Chamber, with un- 
surpassed ability, Mr. Webster has discussed the greatest 
subjects that have influenced, or can influence, the destinies 
of this great Confederacy. Well may I apply to him the 
striking remark which he bestowed on Mr. Calhoun : u We 
saw before us a Senator of Home, when Rome survived." 

I have always regarded Mr. Webster as a noble model 
of a parliamentary debater. His genial temper, the 
courtesy and dignity of his deportment, his profound 
knowledge of his subject, and his thorough preparation, 
not onlv cave him a great command over his immediate 
audience, but gave his masterly speeches an impressive in- 
fluence upon public opinion. 

In the Supreme Court, Mr. Webster was engaged in the 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 447 

greatest cases that were ever decided by that tribunal ; and 
it is not saying too much to assert that his arguments 
formed the basis of some of the ablest judgments of that 
court. His exuberant but rectified imagination, and bril- 
liant literary attainments, imparted to his eloquence beauty, 
simplicity, and majesty, and the finish of taste and elabora- 
tion. He seemed to prefer the more deliberative style of 
speaking ; but, when roused and assailed, he became a 
formidable adversary in the war of debate, discharging 
from his full quiver the arrows of sarcasm and invective 
with telling effect. 

Mr. Webster was born in a forest, and, in his childhood 
and youth, lived amid the scenes of rural life ; and it was 
no doubt under their inspiring influence that he imbibed 
that love of Nature which has given such a charm and 
touching pathos to some of his meditative productions. It 
always struck me that he had something of Burns's nature, 
but controlled by the discipline of a higher education. 
Lifted above the ordinary level of mankind by his genius 
and intelligence, Mr. Webster looked upon a more exten- 
sive horizon than could be seen by those below him. He 
had too much information, from his large and varied inter- 
course with great men, and his acquaintance with the 
opinions of all ages through the medium of books, to allow 
the spirit of bigotry to have a place in his mind. I have 
many, reasons to conclude that he was not only tolerant of 
the opinions of others, but was even generous in his judg- 
ments toward them. I will conclude by saying that New 
England, especially, and the Confederacy at large, have 
cause to be proud of the fame of such a man. 



III. 



MR. CASS. 



Mr. President : How are the mighty fallen ! was 
the pathetic lamentation when the leaders of Israel were 
struck down in the midst of their services and of their 



44S OBi't r,-";Y addles? 



beridwi). Well may we repeat that national wail, How are 
the mighty fallex ! when the impressive dispensations 
of Providence have so recently carried mourning to the 
hearts of the American people, by summoning from life to 
death three of their eminent citizens, who, for almost half 
a century, had taken part — and prominently, too — in all 
the great questions, as well of peace as of war, which 
agitated and divided their country. Full, indeed, they 
were of davs and of honors, for 

" The hand of the reaper 
Took the ears that were hoary," 

but never brighter in intellect, purer in patriotism, nor 
more powerful in influence, than when the grave closed 
upon their labors, leaving their memory and their career 
at once an incentive and an example for their countrymen 
in that long course of trial — but I trust of freedom and 
prosperity, also — which is open before us. Often divided 
in life, but only by honest convictions of duty, followed in 
a spirit of generous emulation, and not of personal opposi- 
tion, they are now united in death; and we may appro- 
priately adopt, upon this striking occasion, the beautiful 
language addressed to the people of England by one of 
her most gifted sons, when thev were called to mourn, as 
we are called now, a bereavement which spread sorrow — 
dismay almost — through the nation, and under circum- 
stances of difficulty and of danger far greater than any 
we can now reasonably anticipate in the progress of our 
history : 

'•Seek not for those a separate doom, 
Whom fate made brothers in the tomb; 
But search the land of living men: 
Where shall we find their like again?" 

And to-day, in the consideration of the message of the 
Chief Magistrate, it becomes us to respond to his annuncia- 
tion — commending itself, as it does, to the universal senti- 
ment of the country — of the death of the last of these 
lamented statesmen, as a national misfortune. This mark 
of respect and regret was due alike to the memory of the 
dead and to the feelings of the livift And I have lis- 
tened with deep emot \ the eloquent testimonials to the 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 449 

mental power, and worth, and services of the departed 
patriot, which to-day have been heard in this high place, 
and will be heard to-morrow, and commended, too, by the 
American people. The voice of party is hushed in the 
presence of such a national calamity, and the grave closes 
upon the asperity of political contests when it closes upon 
those who have taken part in them. And well may we, 
who have so often witnessed his labors and his triumphs — ■ 
well may we, here, upon this theatre of his services and 
his renown, recalling the efforts of his mighty understand- 
ing, and the admiration which always followed its exertion 
— well may we come with our tribute Of acknowledgment 
to his high and diversified powers, and to the influence he 
exercised upon his auditor}^, and, in fact, upon his country. 
He was, indeed, one of those remarkable men who stand 
prominently forward upon the canvas of history, impress- 
ing their characteristics upon the age in which they live, 
and almost making it their own by the force of their genius 
and by the splendor of their fame. The time which elapsed 
between the middle of the eighteenth century and our own 
day was prolific of great events and of distinguished men, 
who guided or were guided by them, far beyond any other 
equal period in the history of human society. But, in my 
opinion, even this favored epoch has produced no man pos- 
sessing a more massive and gigantic intellect, or who exhi- 
bited more profound powers of investigation in the great 
department of political science to which he devoted him- 
self, in all its various ramifications, than Daniel Webster. 

The structure of his mind seemed peculiarly adapted to 
the work he was called upon to do, and he did it as no 
other man of his counrty — of his age, indeed — could have 
done it. And his name and his fame are indissolubly con- 
nected with some of the most difijcult and important ques- 
tions which our peculiar institutions have called into dis- 
cussion. It was my good fortune to hear him upon one of 
the most memorable of these occasions, when, in this very 
hall, filled to overflowing with an audience whose rapt at- 
tention indicated his power and their expectations, he 
entered into an analysis of the Constitution, and of the 

• • • 

great principles of bur political organization, with a vigor 

33* 



450 OBJ.TUAKY. ADDRESSES. 

of argument, a force of illustration, and a felicity of dic- 
tion, which have rendered this effort of his mind one of 
the proudest monuments of American genius, and one of 
the noblest expositions which the operations of our Govern- 
ment have called forth. I speak of its general effect, 
without concurring in all the views he presented, though 
the points of difference neither impair my estimate of the 
speaker nor of the power he displayed in this elaborate 

debate. 

The judgment of his contemporaries upon the character 
of his eloquence will be confirmed by the future historian. 
He grasped the questions involved in the subject before 
him with a rare union of force and discrimination, and he 
presented them in an order of arrangement, marked at 
once with great perspicuity and with logical acuteness, so 
that, when he arrived at his conclusion, he seemed to reach 
it by a process of established propositions, interwoven with 
the hand of a master ; and topics, barren of attraction, 
from their nature, were rendered interesting by illustra- 
tions and allusions, drawn from a vast storehouse of know- 
ledge, and applied with a chastened taste, formed upon 
the best models of ancient and of modern learning ; and 
to these eminent qualifications was added an uninterrupted 
flow of rich and often racy old-fashioned English, worthy 
of the earlier masters of the language, whom he studied 
and admired. 

As a statesman and politician his power was felt and 
acknowledged through the Republic, and all bore willing 
testimony to his enlarged views and to his ardent patriot- 
ism. And he acquired a European reputation b}^ the 
state papers he prepared upon various questions of our 
foreign policy ; and one of these — his refutation and ex- 
posure of an absurd and arrogant pretension of Austria — 
i- distinguished by lofty and generous sentiments, be- 
coming the age in which he lived and the great people in 
whose name he spoke, and is stamped with a vigor and re- 
search not less honorable in the exhibition than conclusive 
in the application ; and it will ever take rank in the 
history of diplomatic intercourse among the richest con- 
fnlnitioKs to the commentaries upon the public law of the 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 451 

World. And in internal as in external troubles he was 
true, and tried, and faithful ; and in the latest, may it be 
the last, as it was the most perilous, crisis of our country, 
rejecting all sectional considerations, and exposing himself 
to sectional denunciation, he stood up boldly, proudly, in- 
deed, and with consummate ability, for the constitutional 
rights of another portion of the Union, fiercely assailed 
hj a spirit of aggression, as incompatible with our mutual 
obligations as with the duration of the Confederation 
itself. In that dark and doubtful hour, his voice was 
heard above the storm, recalling his countrymen to a sense 
of their dangers and their duties, and tempering the les- 
sons of reproof with the experience of age and the dictates 
of patriotism. 

He who heard his memorable appeal to the public reason 
and conscience, made in this crowded chamber, with all 
eyes fixed upon the speaker, and almost all hearts swayed 
by his words of wisdom and of power, will sedulously guard 
its recollections as one of those precious incidents which, 
while they constitute the poetry of history, exert a per- 
manent and decisive influence upon the destiny of nations. 

And our deceased colleague added the kindlier affec- 
tions of the heart to the lofty endowments of the mind ; 
and I recall, with almost painful sensibility, the associa- 
tions of our boyhood, when we were school-fellows together, 
with all the troubles and the pleasures which belong to 
that relation of life, in its narrow world of preparation. 
He rendered himself dear by his disposition and deport- 
ment, and exhibited some of those peculiar characteristic 
features, which, later in life, made him the ornament of 
the social circle, and, when study and knowledge of the 
world had ripened his faculties, endowed him with powers 
of conversation I have not found surpassed in my inter- 
course with society, at home or abroad. His conduct and 
bearing at that early period have left an enduring impres- 
sion upon my memory of mental traits which his sub- 
sequent course in life developed and confirmed. And the 
commanding position and ascendency of the man were fore- 
shadowed by the standing and influence of the boy among 
the comrades who surrounded him. Fifty-five years ago 



£52 • OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

we parted — he to prepare for his splendid career in the 
L r ood old land of our ancestors, and I to encounter the 
rough toils and trials of life in the great forest of the 
West. But, ere long, the report of his words and his 
deeds penetrated those recesses, where human industry was 
painfully, but successfully, contending with the obstacles 
of Nature, and I found that my early companion was 
assuming a position which confirmed my previous antici- 
pations, and which could only be attained by the rare 
faculties with which he was gifted. Since then he has 
gone on irradiating his path with the splendor of his ex- 
ertions, till the whole hemisphere was bright with his glory, 
and never brighter than when he went down in the west, 
without a cloud to obscure his lustre, calm, clear, and 
glorious. Fortunate in life, he was not less fortunate in 
death, for he died with his fame undiminished, his facul- 
ties unbroken, and his usefulness unimpaired ; surrounded 
by weeping friends, and regarded with anxious solicitude 
by a grateful country, to whom the messenger that mocks 
at time and space told, from hour to hour, the progress of 
hisvdisorder, and the approach of his fate. And beyond all 
this, he died in the faith of a Christian, humble, but hope- 
ful, adding another to the roll of eminent men who have 
searched the gospel of Jesus, and have found it the word 
and the will of God, given to direct us while here, and to 
sustain us in that hour of trial, when the things of this 
world are passing away, and the dark valley of the shadow 
of death is open before us. 

How are the mighty FALLEN ! we may yet exclaim, 
when reft of our greatest and wisest; but they fall to rise 
again from death to life, when such quickening faith in the 
mercy of God and in the sacrifice of the Redeemer comes 
to shed upon them its happy influence, on this side of the 
grave and beyond it. 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 453 

IV. 

MR. SEWARD. 

When, in passing through Savoy, I reached the emi- 
nence where the traveller is promised his first distinct 
view of Mont Blanc, I asked, "Where is the mountain ?•" 
" There," said the guide, pointing to the rainy sky which 
stretched out before me. It is even so when we approach 
and attempt to scan accurately a great character. Clouds 
gather upon it, and seem to take it up out of our sight. 

Daniel Webster was a man of warm and earnest af- 
fections in all the domestic and social relations. Purely 
incidental and natural allusions in his conversations, let- 
ters, and speeches, have made us familiar with the very 
pathways about his early mountain home ; with his mother, 
graceful, intellectual, fond, and pious ; with his father, as- 
siduous, patriotic, and religious, changing his pursuits, as 
duty in Revolutionary times commanded, from the farm to 
the camp, and from the camp to the provincial legislature 
and the constituent assembly. It seems as if we could 
recognise the very form and features of the most constant 
and "generous of brothers. Nor are we strangers at Marsh- 
field. We ate guests hospitably admitted, and then left to 
wander at our ease under the evergreens on the lawn, over 
the grassy fields, through the dark, native forest, and along 
the resounding sea-shore. We know, almost as well as we 
know our own, the children reared there, and fondly loved, 
and therefore, perhaps, early lost ; the servants bought 
from bondage, and held by the stronger chains of grati- 
tude; the careful steward, always active, yet never hurried; 
the reverent neighbor, always welcome, yet never obtru- 
sive ; and the ancient fisherman, whose little fleet is ever 
ready for the sports of the sea ; and we meet on every side 
the watchful and devoted friends whom no frequency of 
disappointment can discourage, and whom even the death 
of their great patron cannot all at once disengage from 
efforts which know no balancing of probabilities nor 



4.34 OJilTUAKY A1>1>RESSES. 

reckoning of cost to secure his elevation to the first honors 
of the Republic. 

Who that was even confessedly provincial was ever so 
identified with any thing local as Daniel Webster was 
with the spindles of Lowell, and the quarries of Quincy ; 
with Faneuil Hall, Bunker Hill, Forefathers' Day, Ply- 
mouth Rock, and whatever else belonged to Massachu- 
setts? And yet, who that was most truly national has 
ever so sublimely celebrated, or so touchingly commended 
to our reverent affection, our broad and ever-broadening 
continental home ; its endless rivers, majestic mountains, 
and capacious lakes ; its inimitable and indescribable con- 
stitution ; its cherished and growing capital ; its aptly con- 
ceived and expressive flag, and its triumphs by land and 
sea ; and its immortal founders, heroes, and martyrs ! 
How manifest it was, too, that, unlike those who are im- 
patient of slow but sure progress, he loved his country, 
not for something greater or higher than he desired or 
hoped she might be, but just for what she was, and as she 
was already, regardless of future change ! 

No, sir ; believe me, they err widely who say that 
Daniel Webster was cold and passionless. It is true 
that he had little enthusiasm ; but he was, nevertheless, 
earnest and sincere, as well as calm ; and,, therefore, he 
was both discriminating and comprehensive in his affec- 
tions. We recognise his likeness in the portrait drawn by 
a Roman pencil : 

"who with nice discernmentsknows 
What to his country and his friends he owes ; 
How various Nature warms the human breast, 
To love the parent, brother, friend, or guest, 
What the great offices of judges are, 
Of senators, of generals sent to war." 

Daniel Webster was cheerful, and on becoming oc- 
casions joyous, and even mirthful ; but he was habitually 
engaged in profound studies on great affairs. He was, 
moreover, constitutionally fearful of the dangers of popular 
passion and prejudice ; and so, in public walk, conversa- 
tion, and debate, he was grave and serious, even to solem- 
nity ; yet he never desponded in the darkest hours of 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 45 J 

personal or political trial ; and melancholy never, in health 
nor even in sickness, spread a pall over his spirits. 

It must have been very early that he acquired that just 
estimate of his own powers which was the basis of a self- 
reliance which all the world saw and approved, and which, 
while it betrayed no feature of vanity, none but a super- 
ficial observer could have mistaken for pride or arrogance. 

Daniel Webster was no sophist. With a talent for 
didactic instruction which might have excused dogmatism, 
he never lectured on the questions of morals that are 
agitated in the schools. But he seemed, nevertheless, to 
have acquired a philosophy of his own, and to have made it 
the rule and guide of his life. That philosophy consisted in 
improving his powers and his tastes, so that he might ap- 
preciate whatever was good and beautiful in nature and 
art, and attain to whatever was excellent in conduct. He 
had accurate perceptions of the qualities and relations 
of things. He overvalued nothing that was common, 
and undervalued nothing that was useful, or even orna- 
mental. His lands, his cattle and equipage, his dwelling, 
library, and apparel, his letters, arguments, and orations 
— every thing that he had, every thing that he made, and 
every thing that he did — was, as far as possible, fit, com- 
plete, perfect. He thought decorous forms necessary foi 
preserving whatever was substantial or valuable in politics 
and morals, and even in religion. In his regard, order 
was the first law, and peace the chief blessing, of earth, as 
they are of heaven. Therefore, while he desired justice 
and loved liberty, he reverenced law as the first divinity of 
states and of society. 

Daniel Webster was, indeed, ambitious ; but his am- 
bition was generally subordinate to conventional forms, 
and always to the Constitution. He aspired to place and 
preferment,, but not for the mere exercise of political 
power, and still less for pleasurable indulgences ; and only 
for occasions to save or serve his country, and for the fame 
which such noble actions might bring. Who will censure 
such ambition? Who had greater genius subjected to 
severer discipline? What other motives than those of am- 
bition could have brought that genius into (activity under 



456 OUTTl AiL\ .VL»I>UEj>SKS. 

that discipline, and sustained that activity so equady tinder 
.'ver-changing circumstances so long ? His ambition never 
fell oft' into presumption. He was, on the contrary, con- 
tpnt with performing all practical duties, even in common 
affairs, in the best possible manner: and lie never chafed 
under petty restraints from those above, nor malicious 
annoyances from those around him. If ever any man hud 
intellectual superiority which could have excused a want 
of deference due to human authority, or skepticism con- 
cerning that which was divine, he was such a one. Yet he 
was, nevertheless, unassuming and courteous, here and else- 
where, in the public councils ; and there was, I think, never 
a time in his life when he was not an unquestioning be- 
liever in that religion which offers to the meek the inherit- 
a nee of the heavenly kingdom. 

Daniel Webster's mind was not subtle, but it was clear. 
It was- surpassingly logical in the exercise of induction, and 
equally vigorous and energetic in all its movements; and 
yet he possessed an imagination so strong that if it had 
been combined with even a moderated enthusiasm of 
temper, would have overturned the excellent balance of 
his powers. 

The civilian rises in this, as in other republics, by the 
practice of eloquence ; and so Daniel Webster became 
an orator — the first of orators. 

Whatever else concerning him has been controverted bv 
my body, the fifty thousand lawyers of the United States, 
interested to deny his pretensions, conceded to him an un- 
approachable supremacy at the bar. How did he win that 
high place ? Where others studied laboriously, he medi- 
tated intensely. Where others appealed to the prejudices 
and passions of courts and juries, he addressed only their 
understandings. Where others lost themselves among the 
streams, he ascended to the fountain. While they sought 
the rules of law among conflicting precedents, he found 
them in the eternal principles of reason and justice. 

But it is conceding too much to the legal profession to 
call Daniel Webster a lawyer. Lawyers speak for clients 
and their interests — he seemed always to he speaking for 
his country and for truth. So he rose imperceptibly above 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 457 

his profession ; and while yet in the Forum, he stood before 
the world a Publicist. In this felicity, he resembled, while 
he surpassed, Erskine, who taught the courts at Westmin- 
ster the law of moral responsibility ; and he approached 
Hamilton, who educated the courts at Washington in the 
Constitution of their country and the philosophy of govern- 
ment. 

An undistinguishable line divides this high province of 
the Forum from the Senate, to which bis philosophy and 
eloquence were perfectly adapted. Here, in times of 
stormy agitation and bewildering excitement, when as yet 
the Union of these States seemed not to have been cemented 
and consolidated, and its dissolution seemed to hang, if not 
on the immediate result of the debate, at least upon the 
popular passion that that result must generate, Daniel 
W t ebster put forth his mightiest efforts — confessedly th 
greatest ever put forth here or on this continent. Those 
efforts produced marked effect on the Senate ; they soothed 
the public mind, and became enduring lessons of instruc- 
tion to our countrymen on the science of constitutional 
law, and the relative powers and responsibilities of the 
Government, and the rights and duties of the States and 
of citizens. 

Tried by ancient definitions, Daniel Webster was not 
an orator. He studied no art and practised no action. Nor 
did he form himself by any admitted model. He had 
neither the directness and vehemence of Demosthenes, nor 
the fulness nor flow of Cicero, nor the intenseness of Mil- 
ton, nor the magnificence of Burke. It was happy for him 
that he had not. The temper and tastes of his age and 
country required eloquence different from all these ; and 
they found it in the pure logic and the vigorous yet mass- 
ive rhetoric which constituted the style of Daniel Web- 
ster. 

Daniel Webster, although a statesman, did not aim to 
be either a. popular or a parliamentary leader. He left 
common affairs and questions to others, and reserved him- 
self for those great and infrequent occasions which seemed 
to involve the prosperity or the continuance of the Re- 
public. On these occasions he rose above partisan in- 

3i) 



458 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

flriences and alliances, and gave his counsels earnestly, and 
with impassioned solemnity, and always with an unaf- 
fected reliance upon the intelligence and virtue of hia 
countrymen. 

Tim first revolutionary assembly that convened in Bos- 
ton promulgated the principle of the revolution of 1688 — 
" Resistance to unjust laws is obedience to God ;" and it 
became the watchword throughout the colonies. Under 
that motto the colonies dismembered the British Empire, 
and erected the American Republic. At an early day, it 
seemed to Daniel Webster that the habitual cherishing 
of that principle, after its great work had been consum- 
mated, threatened to subvert, in its turn, the free and 
beneficent Constitution, which afforded the highest attain- 
able security against the passage of unjust laws. He ad- 
dressed himself therefore assiduously, and almost alone, 
to what seemed to him the duty of calling the American 
people back from revolutionary theories to the formation 
of habits of neace, order, and submission to authority. He 
inculcated the duty of submission by States and citizens to 
all laws passed within the province of constitutional au- 
thority, and of absolute reliance on constitutional remedies 
for the correction of all errors and the redress of all in- 
justice. This was the political gospel of Daniel Webster. 
He preached it in season and out of season, boldly, con- 
stantly, with the zeal of an apostle, and with the devotion, 
if there were need, of a martyr. It was full of saving 
influences while he lived, and those influences will last so 
long as the Constitution and the Union shall endure. 

I do not dwell on Daniel Webster's exercise of ad- 
ministrative functions. It was marked by the same ability 
that distinguished all his achievements in other fields of 
duty. It was at the same time eminently conservative of 
peace, and of the great principles of constitutional liberty, 
on which tfie republican institutions of his country were 
founded. But while those administrative services benefited 
his country, and increased his fame, we jll r elt, neverthe- 
less, that his proper and highest place was nere. where 
there was field and scope for his philosophy and his elo- 
quence — here, among the equal representatives of equal 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 4^0 

States, which were at once to be held together, and to be 
moved on in the establishment of a continental power con- 
trolling all the American States, and balancing those of 
the Eastern world ; and we could not but exclaim, in the 
words of the Roman orator, when we saw him leave the 
legislative councils to enter on the office of administration — 

"Quantis in angustiis, vestra gloria se dilitari velit." 



V. 

MR. STOCKTON. 



Mr. President : I was prevented from coming to Wash- 
ington until this morning. Aftef travelling all night, I 
hastened here to take my seat, wholly unapprised of the 
intention of the Senator from Massachusetts to introduce 
the resolutions now before the Senate. 

It would, therefore, not become me, nor the solemnity 
of the occasion, to mingle, unprepared as I needs must be, 
my voice in the eloquent lamentation which does honor to 
the Senate, for any other purpose than merely briefly to 
express my grief — my sorrow — my heartfelt, unaffected 
sorrow for the death of Daniel Webster. 

Senators, I have known and loved Daniel Webster for 
thirty years. What wonder, then, I sorrow ? But now 
that I am on my feet for that purpose — and the Senate, 
who knew and loved him too, are my listeners — how am I 
to express that sorrow ? I cannot do it. It cannot be done. 
Oh ! sir, all words, in moments such as these, when love or 
grief seek utterance, are vain and frigid. 

Senators, I can even now hardly realize the event — that 
Daniel Webster is dead — that he does not u still live." 

I did hope that God — who has watched over this Re- 
public — who can do all things — "who hung the Earth on 
nothing" — who so endowed the mind of Daniel Webster — 
would still longer have upheld its frail tenement, and kept 



460 OBITUARY ADDRESS LS. 

him as an example to our own men, and to the men of the 
whole world. 

Indeed, it is no figure of speech, when we say that his 
fame was "world-wide." 

But, Senators, I have risen to pronounce no eulogy on 
him. I am up for no such vain purpose. I come with nc 
ceremony. I come to the portals of his grave, stricken 
with sadness — before the assembled Senate — in the pre- 
sence of friends and Senators — (for whether they be of this 
side of the Chamber or the other side of the Chamber, I 
hope I am entitled to call every Senator my friendj — to 
mingle my grief with the grief of those around me. But 
I cherish no hope of adding one gravel-stone to the colossal 
column he has erected for himself. I would only place a 
garland of friendship on the bier of one of the greatest 
and best men I ever knew. 

Senators, you have kr^own Mr. Webster in his public 
character — as a statesman of almost intuitive perceptions 
— as a lawye'r of unsurpassed learning and ability — as a 
ripe and general scholar. But it was my happiness to 
know him, also, as a man in the seclusion of private life ; 
and in the performance of sacred domestic duties, and of 
those of reciprocal friendship, I say, in this presence, and 
as far as my voice may reach, that he was remarkable for 
all those attributes which constitute a generous, magnani- 
mous, courageous, hospitable, and high-minded man. Sir, 
as far as my researches into the history of the world have 
gone, they have failed to discover his superior. Not even 
on the records of ancient Greece, or Rome, or of any other 
nation, are to be found the traces of a man of superior 
endowments to our own Webster. 

Mr. President, in private life he was a man of pure and 
noble sentiments, and eminently kind, social, and agree- 
able. He was generous to a fault. Sir, one act of his, 
one speech of his, made in this Chamber, placed him before 
all men of antiquity. He offered himself — yes, you all 
remember, in that seat there, he rose and offered himself a 
living sacrifice for his country. And Lord Bacon has said, 
that he who offers himself as a sacrifice for his country, is 
a sight for angels to look upon. 

Mr. President, my feelings on this occasion will not sur- 



0U1TI "AKY ADDRESSES. -161 

prise Senators, who remember that these are no new senti- 
ments for me — that when he was living, I had the temerity 
to say that Daniel Webster was the greatest among men, 
and a true patriot — ay, sir ! when the expression of such 
opinions might have interfered with political aspirations 
imputed to me. Well, sir, if an empire had then been 
hanging on my words, I would not have amended or altered 
one sentiment. 

Havino- said thus much for the dead, allow me to express 
a word of thanks to the honorable Senator from Michigan, 
(Mr. Cass.) Sir, I have often had occasion to feel senti- 
ments of regard, and, if he will permit me to say it, of 
affectionate regard, for him, and sometimes to express 
them ; but the emotions created in my heart by his address 
this morning are not easily expressed. I thank him — in 
the fulness of my heart I thank him ; and may God spare 
him to our country many years. May he long remain 
here, in our midst, as he is at this day, in all the strength 
of manhood, and in all the glory of matured wisdom. 



HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, 

Wednesday, December 15, 1852. 

The Journal having been read, 

A message was received from the Senate by the hands 
of Asbury Dickins, Esq., its Secretary, which, upon re- 
quest of Mr. Davis, of Massachusetts, was read, as follows : 

Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
sensibility the annunciation from the President of the death 
of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, who was 
lone a highly distinguished member of this body. 

Resolved, That the Senate will manifest its respect tor 
the memory of the deceased,- and its sympathy with his 

39* 



462 UB1TUAR1 ADDRESSES. 

bereaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning 
for thirty days. 

Resolved, That these proceedings be communicated to 
the House of Representatives. 



VI. 

MR. DAVIS. 

Mr. Speaker: I rise for the purpose of proposing 
some action of this House in response to that which, we 
learn, has taken place in the Senate in reference to the 
death of Mr. Webster ; and I have little to add to the 
proposition itself beyond a brief expression of reverence 
and of affectionate recollection. At this seat of Govern- 
ment, where thirty years of Mr. Webster's life were spent 
— in this Capitol, still populous with the echoes of his 
voice — to this House, of which there is not an individual 
member but can trace something of his intellectual wealth, 
or political faith, to the fountain of that mighty intellect — 
it would be useless, and worse, to pass in review the various 
acts of spoken and written thought by which he impressed 
himself ineffaceably upon his time. Master of the great 
original ideas of which our social institutions are but the 
coarse material expression; master of a style which clothed 
each glorious thought in a garb of appropriate beauty ; 
possessed of a conquering nature, that, tw like the west 
wind, brought the sunshine with it,'* and gave us, wherever 
he was, the sense of security and power, he has run his 
appointed race, and has left us to' feel that our day of life 
will henceforth be more wintry now that that light has been 
withdrawn. 

"But be was ours. And may that -word of pride 
Drown, with its lofty tone, pain's bitter cry!" 

I have no intention of undertaking here to measure his 
labors or interpret his ideas; but I feel tempted to say that 
his great field of action — the greatest which any statesman 



ao 



OBlTfAUY AJ>M;i>.-i - : . 46 

can have — was in undertaking to apply general principles 
to an artificial and complicated system ; to reconcile liberty 
with law; to work out the advance of liberty and civiliza- 
tion through and under the rules of law and government; 
to solve that greatest problem of human government, how 
much of the ideal may safely be let into the practical. 

He sought these objects, and he sought the political 
power which would enable him to carry out these objects, 
and he threw into the struggle the great passions of a great 
nature — the quidquid vult, valde vidt, of the elder Brutus, 
He sought, and not unsuccessfully, to throw around the 
cold impersonal idea of a constitution the halo of love and 
reverence which in the Old World gathers round the dynasties 
of a thousand years; for, in the attachment thus created, 
he thought he saw the means of safety and permanence for 
his country. His large experience and broad forecast gave 
him notice of national clangers which all did not see, as the 
wires of the electric telegraph convey news of startling 
import, unknown to the slumbering villages through which 
they pass. Whether his fears were well or ill founded, the 
future, the best guardian of his fame, will show ; but 
whether well" or ill founded matters nothing now to him. 
He has passed through the last and sternest trial, which he 
has himself in anticipation described in words never to be 
forgotten : 

" One may live (said he) as a conqueror, a hero, or a 
magistrate, but he must die as a man. The bed of death 
brings every human being to his pure individuality ; to the 
intense contemplation of that, the deepest and most solemn 
of all relations — the relation between the creature and his 
Creator. Here it is that fame and renown cannot assist 
us ; that all external things must fail to aid us ; that friends, 
affection, and human love and devotedness cannot succor 
us. This relation, the true foundation of all duty — a rela- 
tion perceived and felt by conscience and confirmed by 
revelation — our illustrious friend, now deceased, always 
acknowledged. He reverenced the Scriptures of truth, 
honored the pure morality which they teach, and clung to 
the hopes of future life which they impart." 

Mr. Webster died in accordance with the prevailing 
sentiment of his life, in the spirit of prayer to God, and 



-16-4 obituary addresses; 

of love to man. Well might the nation that watched his 
dying bed say, in the words which the greatest English 
poet applies to a legendary hero who also had been the 
stay of his country in peril : 

" Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
Or knock- the breast ; no weakness, no contempt, 
Dispraise or blame : nothing but well and fair, 
And what may comfort us in a death so noble." 



VII. 

MR. APPLETON, of Maine. 



Mr. Speaker: I do not know that I ought to add any 
thing to what has already been said upon the resolutions 
before us; yet, since the death of Mr. Webster was a 
national calamity, it is fit that all classes and all parties 
in the community should unite to testify their full appre- 
ciation of it. The people themselves have admonished us 
of this, as they have gathered recently with mournful reve- 
rence around his tomb; and we should be unworthy of 
them, if, here in the Capitol, where he won so much of his 
fame, we did not add our tribute to his memory. It is a 
great memory, sir, and will go down to posterity, as one 
of the country's heirlooms, through I know not how many 
successive generations. We are not here, Mr. Speaker, 
to build his monument. He builded that for himself 
before he died ; and, had he failed to do so, none among 
us could supply the deficiency. We are here, rather, to 
recognise his labors, and to inscribe the marble with his 



name. 



That we have not all sympathized with him in his 
political doctrines, or been ready to sanction every trans- 
action of his public life, need not, and, I am sure, does not, 
abate any thing from our respect for his services, or our 
regret for his loss. His character and his works, — what 
he was and what he did, — constitute a legacy which no 
sound-hearted American can contemplate without emotions 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 46. r j 

of gratitude and pride. There is enough of Daniel 
Webster, sir, to furnish a common ground upon which 
all his countrymen can mingle their hearty tributes to his 
memory. 

He was a man to be remarked anywhere. Among a 
barbarous people he would have excited reverence by his 
very look and mien. No one "could stand before him 
without knowing that he stood in a majestic presence, and 
admiring those lineaments of greatness with which his 
Creator had enstamped, in a manner not to be mistaken, 
his outward form. If there ever was such an instance on 
earth, his was the appearance described by the great 
dramatist : 

" The combination and the form indeed, 
Where every god did seem to set his seal, 
To give the world assurance of a man." 

No one could listen to him, in his happier moments, 
without feeling his spirit stirred within him by those deep, 
cathedral tones which were the fit vehicles of his grave and 
earnest thoughts. 

No one can read his writings without being struck by 
the wonderful manner in which they unite a severe sim- 
plicity of style with great warmth of fancy, and great 
affluence of diction. 

We, Mr. Speaker, remember his look and his spoken 
words : but, by those who are to come after us, he will be 
chiefly known through that written eloquence which is 
gathered in our public records, and enshrined among the 
pages of his published works. By these, at least, he still 
lives, and by these, in my judgment, he will continue to 
live, after these pillars shall have fallen, and this Capitol 
shall have crumbled into ruin. Demosthenes has survived 
the Parthenon, and Tully still pleads before the world the 
cause of Roman culture and Roman oratory ; but there is 
nothing, it seems to me, either in Tully or in Demosthenes, 
which, for conception, or language, or elevation of senti- 
ment, can exceed some passages in the writings which 
remain of Daniel Webster. His fame, indeed, is secure, 
for it is guarded by his own works ; and, as he himself 
eaid of Mr. Calhoun, " he has lived long enough, — he has 



±66 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

done enough, and he has done it so well, so successfully, 
so honorably, as to connect himself for all time with the 
records of his country." 

In no respect, Mr. Speaker, is this an occasion of 
lamentation for him. Death was not meant to be regarded 
as an evil, or else it would not come alike to all ; and 
about Mr. Webster's death there were many circum- 
stances of felicity and good fortune. He died in the 
maturity of his intellect, after long public service, and 
after having achieved a great name for himself, and a 
great memory for his country. He died at home ; his 
last wants supplied by the hands of affection; his last 
hours cheered by the consolations of friendship; amidst 
those peaceful scenes which he had himself assisted to 
make beautiful, and within hearing of that ocean-anthem 
to which he always listened with emotions of gratitude and 
joy. He died, too, conscious of the wonderful growth and 
prosperity and glory of his native land. His eloquent 
prayer had been answered — the prayer which he breathed 
forth to Providence at the greatest era of his life, when he 
stood side by sid^ with Andrew Jackson, and they both 
contended for what was, in their belief, the cause of the 
Constitution am* the Union. 

I pause, Mr. Speaker, at the combination of those two 
names. Andrew Jackson and Daniel Webster ! Daniel 
Webster and Andrew Jackson ! With the clear intellect 
and glorious oratory of the one, added to the intuitive 
sagacity and fate-like will of the other, I will not ask 
what wrong is there which they could not successfully 
crush, but what right is there, rather, which could with- 
stand their united power? 

"When my eyes," he said on that great occasion, "are 
turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I 
not see him shining on the broken and dishonored frag- 
ments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered, dis- 
cordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or 
drenched, it may be, with fraternal blood. Let their last 
feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous 
ensign of the republic, now known and honored throughout 
the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies 
Streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or 



OBITUARY ADDUESbES. 467 

polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its motto 
no such miserable interrogatory as ' What is all this 
worth?' nor those other words of delusion and folly, 
'Liberty first and union afterward;' but everywhere, 
spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all 
its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the 
land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that 
other sentiment, dear to every American heart, 'Liberty 
and union, now and forever, one and inseparable.' Sir, 
Mr. Webster outlived the crisis of 1830, and saw his 
country emerge in safety, also, from that later tempest of 
sectional disturbance, whose waters are even yet heaving 
with the swell of subdued but not exhausted passion. He 
left this nation great, prosperous, and happy ; and, more 
than that, he left the Constitution and the Union in 
vigorous existence, under whose genial influences all that 
glory, and prosperity, and happiness, be knew, had been 
achieved. To preserve them, he had risked what few men 
have to risk — his reputation, his good name, his cherished 
friendships; and if there be any who doubt the wisdom of 
his 7th of March speech, let them consider the value of 
these treasures, and they will at least give him credit for 
patriotism and sincerity. But I am unwilling, Mr. Speaker, 
to dwell upon this portion of his career. The fires of that 
crisis have subsided, but their ashes are yet warm with 
recent strife. What Mr. Webster did, and the other 
great men with whom he labored, to extinguish those fires, 
has gone into the keeping of history, and they have found 
their best reward in the continued safety of the republic. 

Our anxiety need not be for them. When the mariner 
is out upon the ocean, and sees, one by one, the lights 
of heaven go out before the rising storm, he does not ask 
what has become of those lights, or whether they shall 
renew their lustre ; but his inquiry is, what is to become 
of me, and how am I to guide my bark in safety, after 
these natural pilots of the sky have disappeared? Yet 
even then, by consulting those calculations and directions 
which wise and skilful men had prepared when the light 
did shine, and there was no tempest raging upon the sea, 
he is enabled, it may be, to grope his way in safety to his 
desired port, And this, sir, is our consolation upon occm- 



4G8 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

slons like the present one. Jackson, and Calhoun, and 
Clay, and Wright, and Polk, and Woodbury, and Webster, 
are "indeed no more; and if all that they thought, and said, 
and did — their wise conceptions, and their heroic deeds, 
and their bright examples — were buried with them, how 
terribly deepened would now be our sense of the nation's 
loss, and how much less hopeful the prospects of republican 
liberty! But it is not so. "A superior and commanding 
human intellect," Mr. Webster has himself told us, "a 
truly great man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is 
not a temporary flame, burning brightly for a while, and 
then giving place to returning darkness. It is rather a 
spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, with power 
to enkindle the common mass of human mind ; so that 
when it glimmers in its own decay, and finally goes out in 
death, no night follows, but it leaves the world all light, all 
on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit." No, 
.sir, our great men do not wholly die. All that they 
achieved worthy of -remembrance survives them. They 
live in their recorded actions; they live in their bright 
examples; they live in the respect and gratitude of man- 
kind; and they live in that peculiar influence by which 
one single commanding thought, as it runs along the 
electric chain of human affairs, sets in motion still other 
thoughts and influences, in endless progression, and thus 
makes its author an active and powerful agent in the 
events of life, long after his mortal portion shall have 
crumbled in the tomb. 

Let us thank God for this immortality of worth, and 
rejoice in every example which is given to us of what our 
nature is capable of accomplishing. Let it teach us, not 
despair, but courage, and lead us to follow in its light, at 
however great a distance, and with however unequal steps 
This is the lesson of wisdom, as well as of poetry. 

" Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime, 
And, departing, leave behind us 

Footprints on the sands of Time ; 

"Footprints that perhaps another. 
Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
A forlorn and shipwreckM brother, 
Seeing, may take heart again." 



ooTTUAnv Addresses; 469 

When God shall send Ins Angel to us, Mr. Speaker, 
bearing the scroll of death, may we be able to bow our 
heads to his mission with as much of gentleness and resig- 
nation as marked the last hours of Daniel Webster ! 



VIII. 

MR. PRESTON. 

Mr. Speaker : I have been requested, by some of the 
gentlemen who compose the delegation from my State, to 
make some remarks upon the subject of the message and 
resolutions received from the Senate, which have been laid 
upon your table this morning, in relation to the death of 
Mr. Webster. It was, in their opinion, peculiarly appro- 
priate that Kentucky — a State so long associated with 
Massachusetts in political sympathy, as well as in reciprocal 
admiration entertained for two of the most eminent men 
of their day — should come forward and add her testimonial 
of the esteem in which she held his life and great public 
services, and the regret she experienced at the calamity 
which has befallen the country. The mind naturally goes 
back, in looking over the great career of Daniel Webster, 
to the period of his birth — seventy years ago. In the 
northern part of the State of New Hampshire, beneath 
the roof of his pioneer father, the future statesman first 
drew the breath of life, and imbibed, amid its picturesque 
scenery and wild mountains, that freedom of thought, that 
dignity, and that intellectual health which left so indelible 
a mark upon his oratory and public career in after-life. No 
man has earned a greater reputation, in the present time, 
in forensic endeavor, than Mr. Webster, nor any whose 
reputation could challenge comparison, unless it be one who 
was also born in a similar obscure station of life, amid the 
marshes of Hanover, and whose future led him to cross the 
summit of the Appalachian range with the grea* tide of 
population which pntired from Virginia upon the fertile 

40 



470 obtttmby Ar>TVBKP?FS. 

plains of Kentucky. Their destiny has been useful, great, 
and brilliant. From that period to this, these celebrated 
contemporaries have been conspicuous in the career of 
public utility to which they devoted their lives, and by 
their intellectual superiority and dignified statesmanship 
have commanded not only the respect of their several 
States, but of the nation and of mankind. For forty years 
they swayed the councils of their country, and the same 
year sees them consigned to the grave. The statesman of 
Ashland died in this city, before the foliage of summer was 
sere, and was sent, with the honors of his country, back to 
the resting-place which he now occupies in the home of his 
earW adoption. The winds of autumn have swept the stern 
New England shores — the shores of Plymouth, where the 
Pilgrim Fathers landed — and caught up the expiring breath 
of Daniel Webster as he terminated his life of honorable 
service. The dirges that the night-winds now utter through 
the primeval forests of Ashland lament for one; the surges 
of the wintry ocean, as they beat upon the shores of Marsh- 
Held, are a fitting requiem to the other. 

There are two points of particular prominence in the life 
of Webster to which I will allude. All remember the 
celebrated struggle of 1830. The greatest minds of the 
country, seeing the constitutional questions involved from 
different points of. view, were embroiled in controversy. 
The darkest apprehensions were entertained. A gallant 
and gifted Senator from South Carolina, (General Hayne,) 
with a genius and fire characteristic of the land of his 
birth, had expressed the views of his party with great 
ability, and, as it was thought, with irresistible eloquence. 
The eyes of the country were directed to Webster as the 
champion of the Constitution and the Union. Crowds of 
beautiful women and anxious men on that day thronged 
the other wing of this Capitol. What patriotic heart in 
the nation has yet forgotten that noble and memorable 
reply '.' A deep and enthusiastic sentiment of admiration 
and respect thrilled through the heart of the people, and 
even yet the triumph of that son of New England is con- 
secrated in the memory of his countrymen. Subsequently, 
the Chief Magistrate of the Union, President Jackson, 
announced opinions of a similar character in his celebrated 



r bt 



\DDHESSiES. 471 



Proclamation, and men of all parties felt that a new ram- 
part had been erected for the defence of the Constitution. 
At a period more recent, within the remembrance of all, 
Daniel Webster again appeared in another critical emer- 
gency that imperilled the safety of the Republic. It was 
the 7th of March, 1850. Excited by the Territorial Ques- 
tion, the spirit of fanaticism broke forth with fearful vio- 
lence from the North. But it did not shake his undaunted 
soul. He gazed with majestic serenity at the storm, and, 
sublime in his self-reliance, as Virgil describes Mezentius 
surrounded by his enemies, 

" He, like a solid rock by seas enclosed, 
To raging winds and roaring -waves exposed, 
From his proud summit looking down, disdains 
Their empty menace, and unmoved remains." 

A great portion of the fame of Daniel Webster rests 
upon the events of that day, and his patriotism having 
endured the tempest, his reputation shone with fresh lustre 
after it had passed. Clay and Webster on that day stood 
linked hand in hand, and averted the perils that menaced 
their common country. In the last great act of their lives 
in the Senate, they drew closer the bonds of union between 
the North and South, like those lofty Cordilleras that, 
stretching along the Isthmus of Panama, bind in indis- 
soluble bonds Northern and Southern America, and alike 
beat back from their rocky sides the fury of either ocean. 
These, Mr. Speaker and gentlemen of the House, are the 
memories that make us in our Western homes revere the 
names of Clay and Webster. 

The gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Davis,) in his 
eloquent tribute to the genius and fame of Daniel Web- 
ster, has chosen to apply to him the remark by which 
Cicero characterizes Brutus — " Quidquid vult, valde vult" 
If he will pardon me, I think the description applied by 
the great orator whom he has quoted to Gracchus is more 
striking: " Eloqventia qiddem nescio an habuisset parem : 
grandis est verbis, sapiens sententizs, genere toto gravis." 
If, however, a resemblance prevailed in this respect between 
Caius Gracchus and Webster, it did not in others. Gracchus, 
as we are told, was the first Roman orator who turned his 



472 ^iilTUAHY ADDRE??': ? 

back to the capitol and his face to the people; the populai 
oratory of Rome, anterior to that time, having always 
turned their faces to the Senate and their backs to the 
Forum. Webster never sought to subvert the judgment 
of the people by inflaming their passions. His sphere was 
among men of intellect. His power was in convincing the 
minds of the cultivated and intellectual, rather than by 
fervid harangues to sway .the ignorant or excite the multi- 
tude. Clay— bold, brilliant, and dashing, rushing at results 
with that intuition of common sense that outstrips all the 
processes of logic — always commanded the heart and di- 
rected the action of his party. Webster seemed deficient 
in some of these great qualities, but surpassed him in others. 
He appeared his natural auxiliary. Clay, the most bril- 
liant parliamentary leader, and probably unequalled, save 
by the Earl of Chatham, whom he resembled, swept with 
the velocity of a charge of cavalry on the ranks of his 
opponents, and often won the victory before others were 
prepared for the encounter. Webster, with his array of 
facts, his power of statement, and logical deductions, moved 
forward like the disciplined and serried infantry, with the 
measured tread of deliberate resolution and the stately air 
of irresistible power. 

Daniel Webster is dead. He died without ever having 
been elevated to the Presidency of the nation. Camillus, 
the second founder of Rome, never enjoyed the Consulate; 
but he was not less illustrious because he was not rewarded 
by the fasces and the consular purple. Before the lustre 
of Webster's renown, a merely Presidential reputation must 
grow pale. He has not only left a reputation of unsurpassed 
lustre in the Senate, but he will also pass down to posterity 
as the ablest and most profound jurist of his day. As an 
orator, he had not, as has been correctly observed by a 
Senator from New York, the vehemence of Demosthenes, 
nor the splendor of Cicero ; but still Daniel Webster was 
an orator — an orator marked by. the characteristics of the 
Teutonic race— bold, massive, and replete with manly-force 
and vigor. His writings are marked by a deep philosophy 
which will cause them to be read when the issues that evoked 
them have passed away, and the splendor of an imagination, 
almost as rich as that of Burke, will invest them with at- 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 473 

tractions alike for the political scholar and the man of 

letters. 

We should not deplore the death of Webster. It is true 
the star has shot from the sphere it illuminated, and is lost 
in the gloom of death ; but he sank full of years and honors, 
after he had reached the verge of human life, and before 
his majestic intellect was dimmed or his body bowed down 
by old age. He did not sink into his grave, like Marlbo- 
rough, amid the mists of dotage ; but he went while his 
intellect was unclouded, and the literary remembrances of 
his youth came thronging to the dying bed of their votary. 
Napoleon, when he was expiring at St. Helena, muttered 
disconnected words of command and battle, that showed 
his turbulent mind still struggled in imaginary conflicts ; 
but gentler spirits brought to the death-bed of the states- 
man of Marshfield more consoling memories as he mur- 
mured, 

" The curfew tolls the knell of parting day," 

and all the tender and mournful beauties of that inimitable 
elegy clustered around his soul. 

But, sir, I will not venture to say more on this theme. 
I have said thus much in the name of my native State, to 
testify her veneration for worth, patriotism, and departed 
greatness, and to add with proper reverence a handful of 
earth to the mound a nation raises to the memory of the 
great secretary, and to say, Peace be to the manes of 
Webster. 



IX. 

MR. SEYMOUR, of New York, said :— 

Mr. Speaker : I rise in support of the resolutions 
offered by the gentleman from Massachusetts, and in that 
connection propose to submit a few remarks. 

Sir, our great men are the common property of the 

country. In the davs of our prosperity, we boast of their 

40* 



474 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

genius and enterprise as they advance the general weal. In 
the hour of a nation's peril, the shadow of their great name 
is the gathering-point, whither we all turn for guidance and 
defence ; and whether their laurels have been gathered on 
the battle-field, in sustaining our rights against hostile 
nations — in the halls of logislation, devising and enacting 
those wise and beneficent laws which, by developing the 
resources, instructing the mind, and directing the energies 
of the nation, may be traced on the frame-work of society 
long after their authors have ceased to exist — or in the 
temple of justice or the sacred desk, regulating the jarring 
elements of civil life, and making men happier and better 
— they are all parts of one grand exhibition, showing, 
through all coming time, what the men of the present age 
and of our nation have done for the elevation and advance- 
ment of our race. To chronicle these results of human 
effort, and to transmit them to future ages, is the province 
of history. In her temple, the great and the good are 
embalmed. There they may be seen and read by all those 
who, in future generations, shall emulate their great deeds. 
Time, whose constant flow is continually obliterating and 
changing the physical and social relations of all things, 
cannot efface the landmarks which they have raised along 
the pathway of life. The processes by which they attained 
the grand result, and the associations by which they at the 
time were surrounded, are unknown or forgotten, while we 
contemplate the monuments which their genius and heroism 
have raised. 

Who that reads the story of the battle of Marathon, by 
which the liberties of Athens were rescued from Persian 
despotism, stops to inquire to what party in that republic 
Miltiades belonged? Who that listens to the thunders of 
Demosthenes, as he moves all Greece to resist the common 
enemy, attempts to trace his political associations? So it 
will be in the future of this republic. The battle of New 
Orleans will disclose Jackson, the hero and the patriot 
saving his country from her enemies. The debates of t' 
Senate-Chamber will exhibit Clay, Calhoun, and Webstt 
illustrating and defending the great principles of o 
Government by their lofty patriotism and eloquence. Oi. 
neither picture will be observed whatever we of the present 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 475 

time may judge to have savored of the mere politician and 
the partisan. We, from our near proximity, may see, or 
think we see, the ill-shapen rocks and the unseemly 
caverns which disfigure the sides of these mighty Alpine 
peaks. Future ages will only descry their ever-gilded 
summits 

" Who, then, shall lightly say that Fame 
Is but an empty name ? 
When, but for these our mighty dead, 

All ages past a blank would be, .- 

Sunk in Oblivion's murky bed — 

A desert bare — a shipless sea. 
They are the distant objects seen, 
The lofty marks of what hath been; 

Where memory of the mighty dead, 
To earth-worn pilgrims' wistful eye 

The brightest rays of cheering shed 
That point to immortality." 

Sir, I shall not attempt here to even briefly review the 
public life or delineate the true character of Daniel 
Webster. That public life, extending through more than 
forty years of the growth and progress of our country, will 
doubtless be sketched by those of his compeers who have 
shared with him in his public service. That character, 
too, will best be drawn by those intimate friends whp 
knew him best, and who enjoyed the most favorable 
opportunities for observing the operations of his giant 
mind. 

In looking at what he has achieved, not only in trtie 
fields of legislation, but in those of literature and jurispru- 
dence, I may say he has left a monument of his industry 
and genius of which his countrymen may well be proud. 
His speeches in the Senate and before the assemblies of 
the people, and his arguments before our highest courts, 
taken together, form the most valuable contribution to 
American literature, language, and oratory which it has 
been the good fortune of any individual to have yet made. 
Were I to attempt it, I should be unable to determine on 
which of the varied scenes of his labors hjs genius and 
talents stood pre-eminent. 

His argument in the Dartmouth College case has ever 
been regarded as a model of forensic debate, exhibiting 



476 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

the rare combination of the dry logic of the law with the 
tender, the beautiful, and the sublime. His address 
before the Historical Society of New York not only 
exhibited a thorough acquaintance with ancient and 
modern literature, but was itself a gem whose brilliancy 
will never cease to attract, even by the side of the great 
lights of the literary world. The speech in the Senate in 
reply to Hayne, by its powerful argumentation, its sub- 
limity, and patriotic fervor, placed him at once, by the 
common consent of mankind, in the front rank of orators. 

But I cannot on this occasion review a life replete with 
incidents at once^evincing the workings of a great mind, 
and marking important events in the history of the 
country. I can here only speak of his labors collectively. 
They were the result of great effort — grand in their con- 
ception, effective in their execution, and permanent in 
their influences. 

As a son of his native New England, I am proud to 
refer back to the plain and unostentatious manners, the 
rigid discipline, and the early and thorough mental train- 
ing to be found among the yeomanry of that part of our 
country, as contributing primarily to the eminent success 
of Mr. Webster in the business of his life. Born, reared, 
and educated among the granite hills of New Hampshire, 
although his attachments to the place of his birth were 
strong to the last, yet, upon the broad theatre upon which 
he was called to act his part as a public man, his sympa- 
thies and his patriotism were bounded only by the confines 
of the whole republic. 

Although, in common with many of us, I differed in 
opinion from the late Secretary of State upon grave poli- 
tical questions, yet, with the great mass of our fellow- 
citizens, I acknowledge his patriotism, and the force and 
ability with which he sustained his own opinions. How- 
ever we may view those opinions, one thing will be con- 
ceded by all : his feelings were thoroughly American, and 
his aim the good of his country. In his whole public life, 
and by his greatest efforts as an orator, he has left deeply 
impressed on the American mind one great truth, never to 
be forgotten — the preservation of American liberty depends 
upon the support of tin ■ Constitution and the Union oj 



niJlTUAhY ADDRESSES. 477 

the States. To have thus linked his name inclissolublv 
with the perpetuity of our institutions is enough of glory 
for any citizen of the republic. 



X. 

MR. CHANDLER said: 



Mr. Speaker : The selection of the present time to 
make special and official reference to the death of Mr. 
Webster may be regarded as fortunate and judicious. An 
earlier moment would have exposed our eulogies to those 
exaggerations Avhich, while they do justice in some mea- 
sure to the feelings whence they spring, are no proofs of 
sound judgment in the utterer, nor sources of honor to 
their lamented object. The great departed owe little to 
the record of their worth, which is made in the midst of 
sudden emotions, when the freshness of personal inter- 
course mingles with recollections of public virtues, and the 
object observed through the tears of recent sorrow, bears 
with it the prismatic hues which distort its fair proportions, 
and hide that simplicity which is the characteristic of true 
greatness. And equally just is it to the dead whom we 
would honor, and to our feelings which would promote that 
honor, that we have not postponed the season to a period 
when time would so have mitigated our just regret as 
to direct our eulogies only to those lofty points of Mr. 
Webster's character which strike but from afar ; which 
owe their distinction less to their affinities with public 
sympathy than to their elevation above ordinary ascent 
and ordinary computation. 

That distance, too, in a government like ours, is danger- 
ous to a just homage to the distinguished dead, however 
willing may be the survivor ; for smaller objects intervene, 
and by proximity hide the proportions which we survey 
from afar, and diminish that just appreciation which is 
necessary to the honorable praise that is to perpetuate 
public fame. 



478 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

Mr. Webster was a distinguished statesman, — tried, sir, 
in nearly all the various positions which, in our Govern- 
ment, the civilian is called on to fill, and in all these 
places the powers of a gifted mind, strengthened and im- 
proved by a practical education, were the great means by 
which he achieved success, and patriotism the motive of 
their devotion. With all Mr. Webster's professional great- 
ness, with all his unrivalled powers in the Senate, with his 
great distinction as a diplomatist, he was fond of credit as 
a scholar ; and his attainments, if not of the kind which 
gives eminence to merely literary men, were such as gave 
richness and terseness to his own composition, and vigor 
and attraction to his conversation. His mind was moulded 
te the strong conception of the epic poet, rather than the 
gentle phrase of the didactic ; and his preference for na- 
tural scenery seemed to partake of his literary taste — it 
was for the strong, the elevated, the grand. His child- 
hood and youth joyed in the rough sides of the mountains 
of New Hampshire, and his age found a delightful repose 
on the wild shores of Massachusetts -Bay. • He was a lover 
of Nature, not in her holiday suit of field and flower, but 
in those wild exhibitions of broken coast and isolated hills, 
that seem to stir the mind into activity, and provoke it 
into emulation of the grandeur with which it is surrounded. 
Yet, sir, Mr. Webster had with him much of the gentleness 
which gives beauty to social life, and dignity and attrac- 
tion to the domestic scene, just as the rugged coast is 
often as placid as the gentlest lake, and the summit of the 
roughest hill is frequently bathed in the softest sunlight, 
and clad in floAvers of the most delicate hues. Mr. Web- 
ster's person was strongly indicative of the character of 
his mind ; not formed for the lighter graces, but graceful 
in the noblest uses of manhood; remarkable in the state- 
liness of his movements, and dignified in the magnificence 
of its impose. Mr. Webster could scarcely pass unnoticed, 
even where unknown. There was that in Ids mien which 
attracted attention; and awakened interest; and his head, 
(whether his countenance was lighted by a smile, such as 
only he could give, or fixed by contemplation, such as only 
he could indulge) seemed an 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 479 

" arch'd and ponderous roof, 
By its own weight made steadfast and iv^iaoyable, 
Looking tranquillity !" * 

With all Mr. Webster's lofty gifts and attainments, he 
was ambitious. Toiling upward from the base of the poli- 
tical ladder, it is not to be denied that he desired to set his 
foot upon the utmost round. This could not have been a 
thirst for power : nothing of a desire for the exercise of 
absolute authority could have been in that aspiration ; for 
the only absolute power left (if any be left) by the Consti- 
tution in the Executive of this nation is "mercy." In 
Mr. Webster it was the distinction which the place con- 
ferred, and the sphere of usefulness it presented. He 
regarded it as the crowning glory of his public life — a 
glory earned by his devotion of unparalleled talents and 
unsurpassed statemanship. This ambition it? Mr. Webster 
was modesty. He could not see, as othti** saw and felt, 
that no political elevation was necessary U> the completion 
of his fame or the distinction of his statesmanship. It was 
not for him to understand that the la&t round of political 
preferment, honorable as it is, and made more honorable 
by the lustre which purity of motive, great talents, and 
devoted patriotism are now "shedding down upon it, — he 
could not understand that preferment, honorable as it is, 
was unnecessary to him ; that .it could add nothing to his 
political stature, nor enlarge the horizon of his comprehen- 
sive views. It is the characteristic of men of true great 
ness, of exalted talents, to comprehend the nature and 
power of the gifts they possess. That, sir, is a homage 
to God, who bestows them. But it is also their mis- 
fortune to be dissatisfied with the means and opportuni- 
ties they have possessed to exercise those gifts to great 
national purposes. This is merely distrust of them- 
selves. The world, sir, comprehends the uses of the 
talents of great statesmen, and gives them credit for 
their masterly powers, without asking that those powers 
should be tried in every position in which public men may 
be placed. 

I see not in all the character, gifts, and attainments of 
Mr. Webster, any illustration of the British orator's ex- 
clamation, relative to "the shadows which we are;" nor 



480 01UTUAEY ADDRESSES. 

do I discover in the splendid career and the aims of his 
lofty ambition any thing Xo prove "what shadows we 
pursue." 

The life of such a man as Daniel Webster is one of 
solid greatness ; and the objects he pursued are worthy of 
a being made in the image of God. A life of honorable 
distinction is a substantive and permanent object. The 
good of man, and the true glory and happiness of his 
country, are -the substantial- things, the record of which 
generation hands down to generation, inscribed with the 
name of him who pursued them. 

I will not, sir, trespass on this House by any attempt to 
sketch the character, or narrate the services of Mr. "Web- 
ster ; too many will have a share in this day's exercise to 
allow one speaker so extensive a range. It is enough for 
me, if, in obeying the indications of others, I give to my 
effort the tone of respect with which the statesman and the 
patriot, Webster, was regarded, as well by the nation at 
large as by those whom I have the honor to represent on 
this floor. And in the remarks of those whose means of 
judging have been better than mine, will be found his cha- 
racteristics of social and domestic life. 

How keenly Mr. Webster relished the relaxations which 
public duties sometimes allowed, I had an opportunity of 
judging ; for he loved to call to my recollections scenery 
which had been familiar to me in childhood, as it was 
lovely to him in age. The a«nusements, in which he grati- 
fied a manly taste in the midst of that scenery, were pro- 
motive of pl^sical recuperation, rendered necessary by 
the heavy demands of professional or official life. He was 
stimulated to thought by the activity which the pursuits on 
land required, or led to deep contemplation by the calm- 
ness of the ocean on which he rested. Though dying in 
office, Mr. Webster was permitted to breathe his last in 
tho.se scenes made classical to others by his uses, and dear 
to him by their ministrations to, and correspondence with, 

his taste. 

The good of his country undoubtedly occupied the last 
moments of his ebbing life ; but those moments were not 
disturbed by the immediate pressure of official duties; and 
in the dignity of domestic quiet, he passed onward: and 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 481 

while at a distance communities awaited in grief and awe 
the signal of his departure, the deep diapason of the At- 
lantic wave, as it broke upon his own shore, was a fitting 
requiem for such a parting spirit. 



^ XI. 

MR. BAYLY, of Virginia, remarked : 

I had been, sir, nearly two years a member of Congress 
before I made Mr. Webster's acquaintance. About that 
time a proceeding was instituted here, of a delicate cha- 
racter so far as he was concerned, and incidentally con- 
cerning an eminent constituent and friend of mine. 'This 
circumstance first brought me into intercourse with Mr. 
Webster. Subsequently, I transacted a good deal of 
official business with him, some of it also of a delicate 
character. I thus had unusual opportunities of forming 
an opinion of the man. The acquaintance I made with 
him, under the circumstances to which I have referred, 
ripened into friendship. It is to these circumstances that 
I, a political opponent, am indebted for the honor, as I 
esteem it, of having been requested to say something on 
this occasion. 

From my early manhood, of course, sir, I have been 
well acquainted with Mr. Webster's public character, and 
I had formed my ideal of him as a man : and what a mis- 
conception of it was that ideal ! Rarely seeing him in 
public places, in familiar intercourse with his friends, con- 
templating his grave, statue-like appearance in the Senate 
and the Forum, I had formed the conception that he was 
a frigid, iron-bound man, whom few could approach without 
constraint ; and I undertake to say that — until of late 
years, in which, through personal sketches of him by his 
friends, the public has become acquainted with his private 

character — such was the idea most persons who knew him 

41 



482 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

only as I did formed of him. Yet, sir, what a misconcep- 
tion ! No man could appreciate Mr. Webster who did 
not know him privately. No man could appreciate him 
who did not see him in familiar intercourse with his 
friends, and especially around his own fireside and table. 
There, sir, he was confiding, gay, and sometimes down- 
right boyish. Full of racy anecdotes, he told them in the 
most captivating manner. 

Who that ever heard his descriptions of men and things 
can ever forget them ? Mr. Webster, sir, attached a pe- 
culiar meaning to the word talk, and in his sense of the 
term he liked to talk ; and who that ever heard him talk 
can forget that talk ? Sometimes it was the most playful 
wit, then the most pleasing philosophy. Mr. Webster, 
sir, owed his greatness, to a large extent, to his native 
gifts. 

Among his contemporaries there were lawyers more 
learned, yet he was, by common consent, assigned the first 
place' at the American bar. As a statesman, there were 
those more thoroughly informed than he, yet what states- 
man ranked above him? Among orators there were those 
more graceful and impressive, yet what orator was greater 
than he ? There were scholars more ripe, yet who wrote 
better English ? The characteristics of his mind were 
massive strength and classic beauty, combined with a rare 
felicity. His favorite studies, if I may judge from his 
conversations, were the history and the Constitution of his 
'own country, and the history and the Constitution of Eng- 
land ; and I undertake to say that there is not now a man 
living who was more perfectly familiar with both. His 
favorite amusements, too, if I may judge in the same way, 
were field-sports and out-door exercise. I have frequently 
heard Mr. Webster say, if he had been a merchant, he 
would have been an out-door partner. Mr. Webster was, 
as all great men are, eminently magnanimous. As proof 
of this, see his whole life, and especially that crowning 
act of magnanimity, — his letter to Mr. Dickinson. Mr. 
Webster had no envy or jealousy about him — as no great 
man ever had. Conscious of his own powers, he envied 
fehos« of no one else. Mr. Calhoun and himself entered 
public life about the same time; each of them strove for 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 483 

the first honors of the Republic. They were statesmen of 
rival schools. They frequently met in the stern encounter 
of debate, and when they met the conflict was a conflict of 
giants. Yet how delightful it was to hear Mr. Webster 
speak, as I have heard him speak, in the most exalted 
terms of Calhoun ; and how equally delightful it was to 
hear Mr. Calhoun, as I have heard him, speak in like terms 
of Webster ! On one occasion, Mr. Calhoun, speaking to 
me of the characteristics of Webster as a debater, said 
that he was remarkable in this— that he always stated the 
argument of his antagonist fairly, and boldly met it. He 
said he had even seen him state the argument of his oppo- 
nent more forcibly than his opponent had stated it hiinjself ; 
and, if he could not answer it, he would never undertake to 
weaken it by misrepresenting it. What a compliment was 
this, coming, as it did, from his great rival in constitutional 
law ! I have also heard Mr. Calhoun say that Mr. Web- 
ster tried to aim at truth more than any statesman of his 
day. 

A snort time since, Mr. Speaker, when addressing the 
House, at the invitation of the delegation from Kentucky, 
on the occasion of Mr. Clay's death, I used this lan- 
guage: 

'? Sir, it is but a short time since the American Congress 
buried the first one that went to the grave of that great 
triumvirate, (Calhoun.) We are now called upon to bury 
another, (Clay.) The third, thank God! still lives; and 
long may he live to enlighten his countrymen by his wis- 
dom, and set them the example of exalted patriotism. 
[Alas ! how little did I think, when I uttered these words, 
that my wish was so soon to be disappointed !] Sir, in the 
lives and characters of these great men there is much re- 
sembling those of the great triumvirate of the British 
Parliament. ^ It differs principally in this : Burke preceded 
"Fox and Pitt to the tomb. Webster survives Clay and 
Calhoun. When Fox and Pitt died, they left no peer be- 
hind them. Webster still lives, now that Calhoun and 
Clay are dead, the unrivalled statesman of his country. 
Like Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun lived in troubled 
times. Like Fox and Pitt, they were each of them the 
leader of rival parties. Like Fox and Pitt, they were 



"484 OBITUARY ADDRESSES; 

idolized by their respective friends. Like Fox and Pitt, 
they died about the same time, and in the public service ; 
and, as has been said of Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun 
died with ' their harness upon them.' Like Fox and 
Pitt— 

" ' With more than mortal powers endow'd, 
How high they soar'd above the crowd ! 
Theirs was no common party race, 
Jostling by dark intrigue for place. 
Like fabled gods their mighty war 
Shook realms and nations in its jar. 
Beneath each banner, proud to stand, 
Look'd up the noblest of the land. 
* * * * * * 

Here let their discord with them die. 
Speak not for those a separate doom 
Whom fate made brothers in the tomb ; 
But search the land of living men, 
Where wilt thou find their like again V " 

I may reproduce on this occasion, with propriety, what 
I then said, with the addition of the names of Burke and 
Webster. The parallel that I undertook to run on that 
occasion, by the aid of a poet, was not designed to be per- 
fect, yet it might be strengthened by lines from another 
poet. For though Webster's enemies must admit, as 
Burke's satirist did, that — 

" Too fond of the right to pursue the expedient" 

yet, what satirist, with the last years of Webster's life 
before him, will undertake to shock the public sentiment of 
America by saying, as was unjustly said of Burke by his 
satirist — 

" Bom for the universe, he narrow' d his mind, 
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind" ? 

Mr. Speaker, during the brief period I have served with 
you in this House, what sad havoc has Death made among 
the statesmen of our Republic ! Jackson, Wright, Polk, 
McDuffie, and Sergeant, in private life, and Woodbury, 
from the bench, have gone to the tomb ! We have buried 
in that short time Adams, Calhoun, Taylor, and Clay, and 
we are now called on to pay the last tribute of our respec* 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 485 

to the memory of Daniel Webster. Well may I ask, in 
the language of the poem already quoted — 

" Where wilt thou find their like again ?" 

There was little, I fear, in the history of the latter days 
of some of those great men to whom I have alluded to in- 
spire the young men of our country to emulate them in 
the labors and sacrifices of public life. . Yet there never 
was a time when there was a stronger obligation of pa- 
triotic duty on us to emulate them in that respect than 
now. 

They followed one race of Revolutionary statesmen — 
they were the second generation of statesman of our 
country. With one or two brilliant exceptions, that second 
generation has passed away, and those that now have 
charge of public affairs, with the exceptions referred to, 
are emphatically new men. God grant we have the pa- 
triotism to follow faithfully in the footsteps of those who 
preceded us ! 



XII. 

MR. STANLEY said : 



Mr. Speaker : I feel that it is proper and becoming in 
me, as the representative of a people who claim the reputa- 
tion of Daniel Webster as part of their most valuable pro- 
perty, to add a few words to what has been already said. 
I do not think that it is necessary to his fame to do so. I 
have no idea of attempting a eulogy on Daniel Webster. 
It would be presumptuous to attempt it. Long before my 
entrance into public life, I heard from an illustrious citizen 
of my native State, (the late Judge Gaston,) that Mr. 
Webster, who was his contemporary in Congress, gave 
early indication of the wonderful abilities which he after- 
ward displayed. There were giants in the land in those 
days, and by them Webster was regarded as one who would 
earn great distinction. Before he reached the height of 

41* 



486 UUITUAKl' ADDRESSES. 

liis fame the young men in our land had been taught to 
respect him. This was the feeling of those who came 
forward on the stage of life with me. In what language, 
then, can I express my admiration of those splendid abili- 
ties which have delighted and instructed his countrymen, 
and charmed the lovers of republican government through- 
out the earth ? How shall I find fitting terms to speak of 
his powers in conversation — his many good qualities in 
social life — his extraordinary attainments — his exalted pa- 
triotism ? Sir, I shrink from the task. 

Gifted men from the pulpit, eloquent Senators at home 
and in the Senate, orators in Northern and Southern and 
Western States, have gratified the public mind by doing 
honor to his memory. To follow in a path trodden by so 
many superior men requires more boldness than I possess. 
But I cannot forbear to say that we North Carolinians 
sympathize with Massachusetts in her loss. We claim him 
as our Webster, as we do the memories of her great men 
of the Revolution. Though he has added glory to the 
bright name of Massachusetts, he has been the defender 
of that Constitution which has surrounded, with impreg- 
nable bulwarks, the invaluable blessings of civil liberty. 
When he made Massachusetts hearts throb with pride that 
* she had such a man to represent her in the councils of the 
nation, we, too, felt proud at her joy, for her glory is our 
glory. 

Faneuil Hail is in Boston, and Boston in Massachusetts ; 
but the fame of those whose eloquence from those walls 
fanned the fire of liberty in the hearts of American pa- 
triots, and made tyrants tremble on their thrones, is the 
fame of the American people. 

Faneuil Hall ! Daniel Webster ! What glorious associa- 
tions do these words recall ! 

The American patriot who hereafter performs his pil- 
grimage to that time-honored hall, and looks at his por- 
trait, appropriately placed there, will involuntarily repeat 
what the poet said of the Webster of poets : 

" Here Nature listening stood, while Shakspeare play'd, 
And wonder'd at the work herself had made." 

Daniel Webster was to the Revolutionary patriots of 



obaTuary addresses. 487 

Massachusetts, to the founders of our Constitution in the 
Old Thirteen States, what Homer was to the ancient heroes. 
Their deeds would have lived without him. Their memories 
would have been cherished by their countrymen had Web- 
ster never spoken. But who can say that his mighty ability, 
his power of language, unequalled throughout the world — 
who can say he has not embalmed their memories, painted 
their deeds in beautiful drapery, and by the might of his 
genius held them up in captivating form to his countrymen? 
Who is there on the habitable globe, wherever man is strug- 
gling for freedom, wherever Washington's name is heard 
and reverenced — who is there who will ever read the his- 
tory of those immortal men who achieved our liberties, and 
founded with almost supernatural wisdom our Constitution 
and republican form of government — who can ever read 
the history of these great men without saying, they achieved 
much, they performed great and noble deeds, but Web- 
ster's oratory has emblazoned them to the world and 
erected monuments to their memories more enduring than 
marble ? Can man aspire to higher honor than to have his 
name associated with such men ? This honor, by universal 
consent, Daniel Webster, the son of a New Hampshire 
farmer, has secured. Wherever liberty is prized on earth, 
in whatever quarter of the globe the light of our "great 
republic" is seen, sending its cheering beams to the heart 
of the lonely exile of oppression — in that land, and to that 
heart, will the name of Web'ster be held in grateful re- 
membrance. As we cannot think of the founders of our 
Republic without thinking of Webster, we cannot speak of 
his services properly except in his own words. How many 
of us, in and out of Congress, since his death, have re- 
called his memorable words, in his eulogium on Adams and 
Jefferson ! Hear him in that discourse : 

"Adams and Jefferson, I have said, are no more. As 
human beings, indeed, they are no more. They are no 
more, as in 1776, bold and fearless advocates of inde- 
pendence ; no more, as on subsequent periods, the head 
of the Government ; no more, as we have recently seen 
them, aged and venerable objects of admiration and regard. 
They are no more. They are dead. But how little is 
there of the great and good which can die ! To their 



48? OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 

country they yet live, and live forever. They live in all 
that perpetuates the remembrance of men on earth ; _ in 
the recorded proofs of their great actions ; in the offspring 
of their intellect ; in the deep and grave lines of public 
gratitude, and in the respect and homage of mankind. 
They live in their example; and they live, emphatically, 
and will live, in the influence" which their lives and efforts, 
their principles and opinions, now exercise, and will con- 
tinue to exercise, on the affairs of men, not only in their 
country, but throughout the civilized world. A superior 
and commanding human intellect, a truly great man, when 
Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not a temporary flame, 
burning bright for a while, and then expiring, giving place 
to returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent 
heat as well as radiant light, with power to enkindle the 
common mass of human mind ; so that when it glimmers 
in its own decay, and finally goes out in death, no night 
follows, but it leaves the world all light, all on fire, from 
the potent contact of its own spirit. Bacon died, but the 
human understanding, roused by the touch of his mira- 
culous wand to a perception of the true philosophy, and 
the just mode of inquiring after truth, has kept on its 
course, successfully and gloriously. Newton died, yet the 
courses of the spheres are still known, and they yet move 
on in the orbits which he saw and described for them in 
the infinity of space. " 

Who can hear these words without feeling how appro- 
priate and applicable to the great American statesman? 
To his country he "still lives," and will live forever. 

Mr. Speaker, I fear to go on. The thoughts which are 
in my mind are not worthy of the great subject. I have 
read and heard so much from the able, learned, and elo- 
quent of our land in his praise, I shrink from attempting 
to add any thing more. 

In justice to the feelings of those I represent, I felt 
solicitous to cast my pebble on the pile which was erecting 
to his memory. They venerate his memory, not only for 
those services to which I have referred, but also for his 
later exhibitions of patriotism, in stemming the torrent of 
temporary excitement at home. The year 1852, Mr. 
Speaker, will long be memorable in the annals of our 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 489 

country. In this year, three . great lights of our age and 
our country have gone out. But a few months since, the 
voice of lamentation was heard from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific shore that Henry Clay was no more. The sounds 
of sorrow had scarcely died in our ears, when inexorable 
Death, striking with remorseless hand at the cottage of the 
peasant arid the palace of the great — Death, as if to send 
terror to our souls by showing us that the greatest in place 
and in genius are but men — has destroyed all that was 
mortal of Daniel Webster. 

And even while we were celebrating his obsequies, the 
sagacious statesman, the wise counsellor, the pure and up- 
right man, John Sergeant, of Pennsylvania — the man who 
more happily combined the suaviter in modo with the 
fortiter in re than any public man I ever met with — the 
model of that best of all characters, a Christian gentleman, 
always loving " whatsoever things are true, honest, just, 
lovely, and of good report," — John Sergeant is called to 
that beatific vision reserved for "the pure in heart." 

Let it be our pleasure, as it will be our duty, to teach 
those who come after us to imitate the private virtues, re- 
member the public services, and cherish the reputation of 
these illustrious men. And while we do this, let us cherish, 
with grateful remembrance and honest pride, the thought 
that these great men were not only lovers of liberty, friends 
of republican institutions, and patriots devoted to the ser- 
vice of their country, but that they were, with sincere con- 
viction, believers in the Christian religion. Without this 
praise, the Corinthian column of their characters would be 
deprived at once of the chief ornament of its capital and 
the solidity of its base. 

I fervently hope the lessons we have had of the certainty 
of death will not be lost upon us. May they make us less 
fond of the pleasures of this world, so rapidly passing 
away ! May they cause those who are in high places of 
trust and honor to remember, now in the days of health, 
manhood, and prosperity, that 

" The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 

And all that beauty, all that wealth, e'er gave 
Await alike the inevitable hour : 
The paths of glory lead but to the grave l" 



490 ' OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 



XIII. 

MR. TAYLOR, of Ohio, said : 

Mr. Speaker : In the Congress of 1799, when the an- 
nouncement of the death of General Washington was made 
in this hody, appropriate resolutions were passed to express 
the high appreciation of the representatives of the people of 
the pre-eminent public services of the Father of his Country, 
and profound grief for their loss. His death was considered 
a great national calamity ; and, in the beautiful and appro- 
priate language of General Henry Lee, who prepared the re- 
solutions introduced by John Marshall, he was proclaimed as 
having been "first in war, first in peace, and first in the 
hearts of his countrymen." The whole nation cordially re- 
sponded to that sentiment, and from that day to this, the 
high eulogium has been adopted by the people of the United 
States of America, as the just and expressive tribute to the 
greatest man, take him all in all, that our country had then- 
or has since, produced. Time rolled on, and the sentiment 
of his own country has, of late years, become the intelli- 
gent opinion of the whole world. And in proof of this 
I might cite, among others, the deliberately-recorded opi- 
nions of the late premier Guizot, of France, and the great 
though eccentric writer and statesman, Brougham, of Eng- 
land, men of vast celebrity. 

Our country, then in its infancy, has grown up, in little 
more than half a century, to be the first republic in the 
world, having increased from three or four millions to 
nearly twenty-five millions of inhabitants, and extending 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. During the present 
year the nation has been called upon to mourn the death 
of two of her distinguished citizens, — two men born since 
the establishment of our independence, cradled in the Re- 
volution, and brought up, as it were, at the feet of the 
fathers of the republic, whose long public career has 
attracted to them and all that concerned them, more than 
to any others, the admiration, the gratitude, and the hope 
of the whole people. These men — Henry Clay and Daniel 
Webster — have both been gathered to their fathers during 



OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 491 

the present year. When, during our last session, the onT 
cial announcement was made in this House of the death 
of Henry Clay, I listened with heartfelt sympathy to the 
eloquent and beautiful eulogies then pronounced upon his 
character, and felt in the fulness of my heart the truest 
grief. As one of the representatives of the great and 
prosperous State of Ohio on this floor, I desired then to 
mingle my humble voice with those who eagerly sought to 
honor his memory. But no opportunity was afforded me, 
and I could only join with meekness of spirit and a bowed 
mind in the appropriate funeral honors which were ren- 
dered to the illustrious dead by Congress. And I only 
now desire to say, that no State in this Union, not even 
his own beloved Kentucky, more deeply felt the great loss 
which, in the death of Mr. Clay, the nation had sustained, 
than the State of Ohio ; and the public meetings of her 
citi-zens, without distinction of party, in the city in which 
I reside, and many other parts of the State, expressed, in 
appropriate and feeling terms, their high estimate of his 
great public services, and their profound grief for his 
death. 

And now, sir, since the adjournment of Congress, at its 
last session, he who co-operated with Mr. Clay in the legis- 
lative and executive departments, at various times for 
nearly forty years, and to whom, with his great com- 
patriot, more than to any others, the people looked for 
counsel, and for security and peace, — he, too, has paid the 
debt of nature, and will never more be seen among men. 
The formal announcement in this body of the death of 
Daniel Webster has elicited just and eloquent tributes to 
his memory, and brings freshly to our view the beautiful 
traits of his private character, and his great and long- 
continued public services in the Senate and in one of the 
executive departments of the Government. In all that is 
said in commendation of the private virtues and pre-emi- 
nent public services of Daniel Webster I heartily concur ; 
and I wish, sir, that I could find words sufficiently strong 
and appropriate t<5 express what, in my judgment, were 
the great' claims of these two eminent men upon the admi- 
ration and upon the gratitude of their countrymen. They 
were in many respects exemplars for the young men of 



£92 'OBiTUAKY ADDRESSES. 

our country. Born (without an}' of the advantages con 
f erred sometimes by wealth and position) in humble life ; 
struggling with adversities in their earlier years, triumph- 
ing over all obstacles by their native strength of intellect, 
by their genius and by their persevering industry and 
great energy, they placed themselves in the very first rank 
of American statesmen, and for more than forty years 
were the great leaders of the American mind, and among 
the brightest guardians of their common country. 

Sir, it was my good fortune to have known, for many 
years, both these great patriots, and to have enjoyed their 
friendship ; and I think I but express the general senti- 
ment of the intelligent people of this great country when 
I say that our country is, in a very large degree, indebted 
to them for its present unexampled prosperity, for its 
peace and domestic happiness, and for its acknowledged 
power and high renown all over the world. In my judg- 
ment, the words of the national legislature, so beautifully 
and aptly embodying the true character of the Father of 
his Country, were not more appropriately uttered then in 
reference to him than they might be applied now, so far as 
relates to the civil affairs and action of our Government 
within the last forty years, to Henry Clay and Daniel 
Webster ; and it may be properly said of them, that, 
within that time, they have been, emphatically, " first in 
w r ar, first in peace, and first in the hearts of their coun- 
trymen." But, sir, the great men of a country must die ; 
and, if the great men of a country are pre-eminently good 
men, their loss is the more severely felt. Nothing human 
is perfect ; and I am far from believing, much less from 
asserting, that the eminent men of whom I have spoken 
were without defects of character. But I believe their 
virtues so far outweighed the imperfections of their nature, 
that to dwell upon such defects, on this occasion, would be 
as unprofitable and futile as to object to the light, and 
heat, and blessings of the glorious sun, guided by the 
Omnipotent hand, because an occasional shadow or spot 
may be seen on his disk. These guardians of our country 
have passed away, but their works and good examples are 
left for our guidance, and are part of the lasting and 
valued possessions of this nation. And, Mr. Speaker, 



edward Everett's address. 49 

" When the bright guardians of a country die, 
The grateful tear in tenderness will start ; 
And the keen anguish of a reddening eye 
Disclose the deep affliction of the heart." 



XIV. 

EDWARD EVERETT'S ADDRESS ON THE DEATH OF MR. 
WEBSTER, DELIVERED IN BOSTON. 

Mr. Mayor and Fellow-Citizens: I never rose to 
address an assembly when I was so little fit, body or mind, 
to perform the duty; and I never felt so keenly how in- 
adequate are words to express such an emotion as mani- 
festly pervades this meeting, in common with the whole 
country. There is but one voice that ever fell upon my 
ear which could do justice to such an occasion. That 
voice, alas ! we shall hear no more forever. No more at 
the bar will it unfold the deepest mysteries of the law ; no 
more will it speak conviction to admiring Senates ; no 
more in this hall, the chosen theatre of his intellectual 
dominion, will it lift the soul as with the sivell of the peal- 
ing organ, or stir the blood with the tones of a clarion, in 
the inmost chambers of the heart. 

We are assembled, fellow-citizens, to pour out the ful- 
ness of our feelings ; not in vain attempt to do honor to 
the great man who is taken from us ; most assuredly, not 
with the presumptuous hope on any part to magnify his 
name and his praise. They are spread throughout the 
land. From East to West, and from North to South, 
(which he knew, as he told you, only that he might em- 
brace them in the arms of loving patriotism,) a voice of 
lamentation has alread}^ gone forth, such as has not echoed 
throughout the land since the death of him who was " first 
in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his coun- 
trymen." 

You have listened, fellow-citizens, to the resolutions 
which have been submitted to you by Colonel Heard. I 

42 



494 EULOGIES OS WEBSTER. 

thank him for offering them. It does honor to his heart, 
and to those with whom he acts in politics, and whom, I 
have no doubt, he well represents, that he has stepped 
forward so liberally on this occasion. The resolutions are 
emphatic, sir, but I feel that they do not say too much. 
No one will think that they overstate the magnitude of our 
loss, who is capable of appreciating a character like that 
of Daniel Webster. Who of us, fellow-citizens, that has 
known him — that has witnessed the masterly skill with 
which he would pour the full effulgence of his mind on 
some contested legal and constitutional principle, till what 
seemed hard and obscure became as plain as day ; who 
that has seen him, in all the glory of intellectual as- 
cendency, 

'Ride on the whirlwind and direct the storm'' 

of parliamentary conflict ; who that has drank of the pure, 
.fresh air of wisdom and thought in the volumes of his 
writings ; who, alas, sir, that has seen him 

"in his happier hour 
Of social pleasure, ill exchanged for power," 

that has come within the benignant fascination of his 
smile, has felt the pressure of his hand, and tasted the 
sweets of his fireside eloquence, will think that the resolu- 
tions say too much? 

No, fellow-citizens, we come together not to do liont)r to 
him, but to do justice to ourselves. We obey an impulse 
from within. Such a feeling cannot be pent up in solitude. 
We must meet neighbor with neighbor, citizen with citizen, 
man with man, to sympathize with each other. If we did 
not, mute nature would rebuke us. The granite hills of 
New Hampshire, within whose shadow he drew his first 
breath, would cry shame : Plymouth Rock, which all but 
moved at his approach ; the slumbering echoes of this hall, 
which rung so grandly with his voice, that u silent but ma- 
jestic orator," which rose in no mean degree at his com- 
mand on Bunker Hill, — all, all, would cry out at our de- 
generacy and ingratitude. 

Mr. Chairman, I do not stand here to pronounce the 



EDAVAKD KViaiOT's ADDRESS. 495 

eulogy of Mr. Webster ; it is not necessary. Eulogy has 
already performed her first offices to his memory. As the 
mournful tidings have flashed through the country, the 
highest officers of nation and State, the most dignified 
official bodies, the most prominent individuals, without dis- 
tinction of party, the press of the country, the great voice 
of the land, all have spoken,. and with one accord of opi-~ 
nion and feeling; with a unanimity that does honor at once 
to the object of this touching attestation, and to those who 
make it. The record of his life, from the humble roof 
beaeath which he was born, (with no inheritance but 
poverty and an honored name,) up through the arduous 
paths of manhood, which he trod with lion heart and giant 
steps, till they conducted him to the helm of state, — this 
stirring narrative, not unfamiliar before, has, with melan- 
choly promptitude, within the last three days, been again 

' sent abroad through the length and breadth of the land. 
It has spread from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. Strug- 
gling poverty has been cheered afresh ; honest ambition 
has been kindled, patriotic resolve has been invigorated ; 
while all have mourned. 

The poor boy at the village school has taken comfort as 
he has read that the time was when Daniel Webster, whose 
father told him he should go to college if he had to sell 
every acre of his farm to pay the expense, laid his head 
on the shoulder of that fond and discerning parent, and 
wept the thanks he could not speak. The pale student who 
ekes out his scanty support by extra toil has gathered com- 
fort when reminded that the first jurist, statesman, and 
orator of the time earned with his weary fingers, by the 
midnight lamp, the means of securing' the same* advantages 
of education to a beloved brother. Every true-hearted 
citizen throughout the Union has felt an honest pride as 
he reperuses the narrative, in reflecting that he lives be- 
neath a Constitution and a Government under which such 
a man has been formed and trained, and that he himself 
is compatriot with him. He does more, sir ; he reflects 

•with gratitude that in consequence of what that man has 
done and written, and said — in the result of his efforts to 
strengthen the pillars of the Union — a safer inheritance of 



496 EULOGIES OX WEBSTER. 

civil liberty, a stronger assurance that these blessings will 
endure, will descend to his children. 

I know, Mr. Mayor, how presumptuous it would be to 
dwell on any personal causes of grief, in the presence of 
this august sorrow which spreads its dark wings over the 
land. You will not, however, be offended, if, by way of 
apology for putting myself forward on this occasion, I say 
that mv relations with Mr. Webster run further back than 
those of almost any one in this community. They began 
the first vear he came to live in Boston. When I was but 
ten or eleven years old, I attended a little private school in 
Short Street, (as it was then called ; it is now the continua- 
tion of Kingston Street,) kept by the late Hon. Ezekiel Web- 
ster, the elder brother to whom I have alluded, and a bro- 
ther worthy of his kindred. Owing to illness, or some 
other cause of absence on his part, the school was^kept for 
a short time by Daniel Webster^ then a student of law in 
Mr. Gore's office ; and on this occasion, forty-seven or forty- 
eight years ago, and I a child of ten, our acquaintance, 
never interrupted, began. 

When I entered public life, it was with his encouragement. 
In 1838, 1 acted, fellow-citizens, as your organ in the great 
ovation which you gave him in this hall. ..When he came to 
the Department of State, in 1841, it was on his recom- 
mendation that I, living in the utmost privacy beyond the 
Alps, was appointed to a very high office abroad ; and, in 
the course of the last year, he gave me the highest proof 
of his confidence, in intrusting to me the care of conduct- 
ing his works through the press. May I venture, sir, to 
add, that in the last letter but one which I had the happi- 
ness to receive from b"im, alluding with a kind of sad pre- 
sentiment, which* I could not then fully appreciate, but 
which now unmans me, to these kindly relations of half a 
century, he adds, " We now and then see stretching across 
the heavens a clear, blue, cerulean sky, without cloud, or 
mist, or haze. And such appears to me our acquaintance 
from the time when I heard you for a week recite your 
lessons in the little school-house in Short Street, to the 
date hereof," (21st of July, 1852.) 

Mr. Chairman, I do not dwell upon the traits of Mr. 
Webster's public character, however tempting the theme. 



EDWARD EVERETT* S ADDRESS. 497 

Its bright developments in a long life of service are before 
the world ; they are wrought into the annals of the 
country. Whoever in after-times shall write the his- 
tory of the United States for the last forty years, will 
write the life of Daniel Webster ; and whoever writes the 
life of Daniel Webster, as it ought to be written, will write 
the history of the Union from the time he took a leading 
part in its concerns. I .prefer to allude to those private 
traits which show the man, the kindness of his heart, the 
generosity of his spirit, his freedom from all the bitterness 
of party, the unaffected gentleness of his nature. In pre- 
paring the new edition of his works, he thought proper to 
leave almost every thing to my discretion — as far as mat- 
ters of taste are concerned. One thing only he enjoined 
upon me, with an earnestness approaching to a command. 
u My friend," said he, " I wish to perpetuate no feuds. I 
have sometimes, though rarely, and that in self-defence, 
been led to speak of others with severity. I beg you, 
where you can do it without wholly changing the cha- 
racter of the speech, and thus doing essential injustice 
to me, to obliterate every trace of personality of this 
kind. I should prefer not to leave a word that would 
give unnecessary pain to any honest man, however opposed 
to me." 

But-I need not tell you, fellow-citizens, that there is no 
one of our distinguished public men whose speeches con- 
tain less occasion for such an injunction. Mr. Webster 
habitually abstained from the use of the poisoned weapons 
of personal invective or party odium. No one could more 
studiously abstain from all attempts to make a political 
opponent personally hateful. If the character of our Con- 
gressional discussions has of late years somewhat declined 
in dignity, no portion of the blame lies at his door. With 
Mr. Calhoun, who, for a considerable portion of the time, 
was his chief antagonist, and* with whom he was brought 
into most direct collision, he maintained friendly personal 
relations. He did full justice to his talent and character. 
You remember the feeling with which he spoke of him at 
the time of his decease. Mr. Calhoun, in his turn, enter- 
tained a just estimate of his great opponent's worth. He 

paid, toward the close of his life, that of all the leading 

42* 



498 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER* 

men of the day, " there was not one whose political course 
had been more strongly marked by a strict regard to truth 
and honor than Mr. Webster's." 

One of the resolutions speaks of a permanent memorial 
to Mr. Webster. I do not know what is contemplated, 
but I trust that such a memorial there will be. I trust 
that marble and brass, in the hands of the most skilful 
artists our country has produced, will be put in requisition 
to reproduce to us — and nowhere so appropriately as in 
this hall — the lineaments of that noble form and beaming 
countenance, on which we have so often gazed with de- 
light. But, after all, fellow-citizens, the noblest monu- 
ment may be found in his works. There he will live and 
speak to us and our children when brass and marble have 
crumbled into dust. As a repository of political truth 
and practical wisdom applied to the affairs of government, 
I know not where we shall find their equal. The works 
of Burke naturally suggest themselves to the mind as the 
only writings in our language that can sustain the compa- 
rison. Certainly no compositions in the English tongue 
can take precedence of those of Burke in depth of thought, 
reach of forecast, or magnificence of style. I think, how- 
ever, it may be said, without partiality, either national or 
personal, that while the reader is cloyed at last with the 
gorgeous finish of Burke's diction, there is "a severe sim- 
plicity and a significant plainness in Webster's writings 
that never tires. It is precisely this which characterizes 
the statesman in distinction from the political philosopher. 
In political disquisition elaborated in the closet, the palm 
must perhaps be awarded to Burke over all others, ancient 
or modern. But in the actual conflicts of the Senate, man 
against man, and opinion against opinion, in the noble war 
of debate, where measures are to be sustained and op- 
posed on which the welfare of the country and the peace 
of the world depend, where- often the line of intellectual 
battle is changed in a moment — no time to reflect — no 
leisure to cull words, or gather up illustrations — but all to 
be decided by a vote, although the reputation of a life 
may be at stake — all this is a very different matter, aud 
here Mr. Webster was immeasurably the superior. Ac- 
cordingly, we find historically (incredible as it sounds, and 



edward Everett's address. 499 

what I am ready to say I will not believe, though it is un- 
questionably true) that these inimitable orations of Burke, 
which one cannot read without a thrill of admiration to 
his fingers' ends, actually emptied the benches of Parlia- 
ment. 

Ah, gentlemen, it was very different with our great par- 
liamentary orator. He not only chained to their seats 
willing, or, if there were such a thing, unwilling Senators, 
but the largest hall was too small for his audience. On 
the memorable 7th of March, 1850, when he was expected 
to. speak upon the great questions then pending before the 
country, not only was the Senate-chamber thronged to its 
utmost capacity at an early hour, but all the passages to 
it, the rotunda of the Capitol, and even the avenues of the 
city, were alive with the crowds who were desirous of 
gaining admittance. Another Senator, not a political 
friend, was entitled to the floor. With equal good taste 
and feeling, he stated that " he was aware that great mul- 
titudes had not come together to hear him ; and he was 
pleased to yield the floor to the only man, as he believed, 
who could draw together such an assembly." This senti- 
ment, the effusion of parliamentary courtesy, will, perhaps, 
be found no inadequate expression of what will finally be 
the judgment of posterity. 

Among the many memorable words which fell from the 
lips of our friend just before they were closed forever, the 
most remarkable are those which my friend Halliard has 
just quoted, — "I still live." They attest the serene 
composure of his mind; the Christian heroism with which 
he was able to turn his consciousness in upon himself, and 
explore, step by step, the dark passage, (dark to us, but to 
him, we trust, already lighted from above,) which connects 
this world with the world to come. But I know not, Mr. 
Chairman, what words could have been better chosen to 
express his relation to the world he was leaving — " I still 
live." This poor dust is just returning to the dust from 
which it was ta,ken, but I feel that I live in the affections 
of the people to whose services I have consecrated my 
days. "I still live." The icy band of death is already 
laid on mv heart, but I shall still live in those words of 
counsel which I have uttered to mv fellow-citizens, and 



500 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 



u 



which I now leave them as the last bequest of a dying 
friend. 

Mr. Chairman, in the long and honored career of our 
lamented friend, there are efforts and triumphs which will 
hereafter fill one of the brightest pages of our history. 
But I greatly err if the closing scene — the height of the 
religious sublime — does not, in the judgment of other 
days, far transcend in interest the brightest exploits of 
public life. Within that darkened chamber at Marshfield 
was witnessed a scene of which we shall not readily find 
the parallel. The serenity with which he stood in the 
presence of the king of terrors, without trepidation or 
flutter, for hours and days of expectation ; the thought- 
fulness for the public business, when the sands were so 
nearly run out ; the hospitable care for the reception of 
the friends who came to Marshfield; that affectionate and 
solemn leave separately taken, name by name, of wife, 
and children, and kindred, and friends, and family, down 
to the humblest members of the household ; the designa- 
tion of the coming day, then near at hand, when ".all that 
was mortal of Daniel Webster would cease to exist 1" the 
dimly-recollected strains of the funeral poetry of Gray ; 
the last faint flash of the soaring intellect; the feebly 
murmured words of Holy Writ repeated from the lips of 
the good physician, who, when all the resources of human 
art had been exhausted, had a drop of spiritual balm for 
the parting soul ; the clasped hands ; the dying prayers. 
Oh, my fellow-citizens, this is a consummation over which 
tears of pious sympathy will be shed ages after the gloi ies 
of the forum and the Senate are forgotten. 

" His sufferings ended with the day; 
Yet lived he at its close, 
And breathed the long, long night away 
In statue-like repose. 

" But ere the sun, in all his state, 
Illumed the eastern skies, 
He pass'd through glory's morning gate, 
Au<l walk'd iu Paradise," 



KTJFTJS CHOATE'lS ADDRESS 501 



XV. 

RUFUS CHOATE'S ADDRESS, DELIVERED BEFORE THE SUF 
FOLK BAR IN BOSTON, ON THE DEATH OF MR. WEBSTER. 

May it please your Honor : I have been requested 
by the members of the bar of this court to present certain 
resolutions in which they have embodied, as they were able, 
their sorrow for the death of their beloved and illustrious 
member and countryman, Mr. Webster ; their estimation 
of his character, life, and genius; their sense of the bereave- 
ment — to the country as to his friends — incapable of repair ; 
the pride, the fondness — the filial and patriotic pride and 
fondness — with which they cherish, and would consign to 
history to cherish, the memory of a great and good man. 

And when I have presented these resolutions, my duty 
is done. He must have known Mr. Webster less and loved 
him less than your honor, or than I have known and loved 
him, who can quite yet — quite yet, before we can compre- 
hend that we have lost him forever — before the first pale- 
ness with which the news of his death overspread our 
cheeks, has passed away ; before we have been down to lay 
him in the Pilgrim soil he loved so well, till the heavens be 
no inore— he must have known and loved him less than we 
have done, who can come here quite yet, to recount the 
series of his service — to display with psychological exact- 
ness the traits of his nature and mind — to ponder and 
speculate on the secrets, on the marvellous secrets and 
sources of that vast power, which we shall see no more in 
action, nor aught in any degree resembling it, among -men. 
These first moments should be given to grief. It may em- 
ploy — it may promote a calmer mood^to construct a more 
elaborate and less unworthy memorial. 

For the purposes of this moment and place, indeed, no 
more is needed. What is there for this court or for this 
bar from me to learn, here and now of him ? The year 
and the day of his birth ; that birthplace on the frontier 
yet bleak and waste ; the well of which his childhood drank 
— dug by that father of whom he said, " that through the 



502 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

fire and blood of seven years' revolutionary war, he shrank 
from no danger, no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his country, 
and to raise his children to a condition better than^his 
own" — the elm-tree that father planted, fallen now, as 
father and son have fallen — that training of the giant in- 
fancy on Catechism and Bible, and Watts's version of the 
Psalms, and the traditions of Plymouth and Fort William 
and Mary, and the Revolution, and the age of Washing- 
ton and Franklin ; on the banks of the Merrimack, flowing 
sometimes In flood and anger, from his secret springs in the 
crystal hills; the two district schoolmasters, Chase and 
Tappan; the village-library; the dawning of the love and 
ambition of letters ; the few months at Exeter and Bos- 
cawen ; the life of college ; the probationary season of 
schoolteaching ; the clerkship in the Fryburg Registry of 
Deeds ; his admission to the Bar, presided over by judges 
like Smith, illustrated by practitioners such as Mason, 
where by the studies, in the contentions of nine years he 
laid the foundation of the professional mind ; his irresistible 
attraction to public life ; the oration on commerce ; the 
Rockingham resolutions ; his first term of four years' ser- 
vice in Congress, when by one bound he sprang to his place 
by the side of the foremost of the rising American states- 
men ; his removal to this State ; and then the double and 
parallel current in which his life, studies, thoughts, and 
cares, have since flowed, bearing him to the leadership of 
the Bar, by universal acclaim ; bearing him to the leader- 
ship of public life — last of that surpassing triumvirate, 
shall we say the greatest, the most widely known and ad- 
mired — of all ? These things, to their minutest details, 
are known and rehearsed familiarly. Happier than the 
youno-er Pliny, happier than Cicero, he has found his his- 
torian unsolicited, in his "lifetime — and his countrymen 
have him all by heart. 

There is, then, nothing to tell you ; nothing to bring to 
mind. And then, if I may borrow the language of one 
of his historians and friends — one of those through whose 
beautiful pathos the common sorrow uttered itself yester- 
day, in Faneuil Hall — "I dare not come here, and dismiss 
in a few summary paragraphs the character of one who has 
filled such a space in the history — who holds such a place 



RITFUS CIIOATf/S A DDK ESS. 503 

in the heart- -of his country. It would be a disrespectful 
familiarity to a man of his lofty spirit, his great soul, his 
rich endowments, his long and honorable life, to endeavor 
thus to weigh and estimate them." A half-hour of words, 
a handful of earth, for fifty years of great deeds, on high 

places ! 

But although the time does not require any thing elabo- 
rated and adequate — forbids it rather — some broken sen- 
tences of veneration and love may be indulged to the 
sorrow which oppresses us. 

There presents itself, on the first, to any observation of 
Mr. Webster's life and character, a twofold eminence — 
eminence of* the very highest rank in a twofold field of in- 
tellectual public display — the profession of the law, and 
the profession of statesmanship — of which it would not be 
easy to recall any parallel in the biography of illustrious 
men. 

Without seeking for parallels, and without asserting that 
they do not exist, consider f that he was by universal desig- 
nation the leader of the general American Bar ; and that he 
was also, by an equally universal designation, foremost of 
her statesmen living at his death — inferior to not one who 
has lived and acted since the opening of his own public life. 
Look at these aspects of his greatness separately, — and 
from opposite sides of the surpassing elevation, consider 
that his single career at the Bar may seem to have been 
enough to employ the largest faculties without repose — for 
a lifetime — and that if then and thus the " infinitus 
forensium rerum labor' would have conducted him to a 
mere professional reward — a Bench of Chancery or Law — 
the crown of the first of advocates — jurisperitorum elo- 
quentissimus — to the pure and mere fame of a great magis- 
trate — that that would be as much as is allotted to the 
ablest in the distribution of fame. Even that half — if I 
may say so — of his illustrious reputation — how long the 
labor to win it — how worthy of all that labor ! He was 
bred first in the severest school of the common law — in 
which its doctrines were expounded by Smith, and its ad- 
ministration shaped and directed by Mason, — and its 
foundation principles, its historical sources and illustra- 
tions, its connection with the parallsl series of statutory 



504 EULOGIES ON WEJJ.<TEll. 

enactments, its modes of reading, and the evidence of its 
truths, — he grasped easily and completely : and I have 
myself heard him say, that for many years, while still at 
the bar, he tried more causes, and argued more questions 
of fact to the jury than perhaps any other member of the 
profession anywhere. I have heard from others, how even 
tl^eri he exemplified the same direct, clear, and forcible 
exhibition of proofs, and the reasonings appropriate to the 
proofs — as well as the same marvellous power of discerning 
instantly what we call the decisive points of the cause in 
law and fact — by which he was later more widely cele- 
brated. This was the first epoch in his professional 
training. 

With the commencement of his public life, or with his 
later removal to this State, began the second epoch of his 
professional training — conducting him through the grada- 
tion of the national tribunals to the study and practice of 
the more flexible, elegant, and scientific jurisprudence of 
commerce and of chancery, and to the grander and less 
fettered investigation of international jurisprudence and 
constitutional law — and giving him to breathe the air of a 
more famous forum, in a more public presence, with more 
variety of competition ; although he never met abler men, 
as I have heard him say, than some of those who initiated 
him in the rugged discipline of the courts of New Hamp- 
shire ; and thus, at length, by these studies, these labors, 
this contention, continued without repose, he came, now 
many years ago, to stand, omnium consentu, at the summit 
of the American Bar. 

It is common, and it is easy, in the case of all in such 
position, to point out other lawyers, here and there, as 
possessing some special qualification or attainment more 
remarkably, perhaps, because more exclusively ; to say of 
one that he has more cases in his recollection at any given 
moment; or that he was earlier grounded in equity; or 
has gathered more black-letter, or civil law, or knowledge 
of Spanish or Western titles ; and these comparisons were 
sometimes made with him. But when you sought a counsel 
r)f the first-rate for the great cause, who would most surely 
discern and most powerfully expound the exact law re- 
quired for the controversy, in season for use ; who could 



r.urus ci-ioate's address. 505 

fwost skilfully encounter the opposing law ; under whose 
power of analysis, persuasion, and display, the asserted 
right would assume the most forcible aspect before the in- 
telligence of the judge ; who,- if the inquiry became loaded 
with, or resolved into facts, could most completely develop 
and most irresistibly expose them ; one " the law's whole 
thunder born to wield" — when you sought such a counsel. 
and could have the choice, I think the universal profession 
would have turned to him. And this would be so in nearly 
every description of causes. In any department, some able 
men wield civil inquiries with a peculiar ability — some 
criminal. How lucidly and how deeply he unfolded a 
question of property, you all know. But then with what 
address, feeling, and pathos, he defended ; with what dignity 
and crushing power, accusatoria spiritu, he prosecuted the 
accused of crime, few have seen ; but none who have seen 
can ever forget it. 

Some scenes- there are — some Alpine eminences rising 
above the high table-land of such a professional life, to 
which, in the briefest tribute, we should love to follow him. 
We recall that day for an illustration, when he first an- 
nounced with decisive display, what manner of man he was 
to the Supreme Court of the nation. It was in 1818, and 
it was in the argument of the case of the Dartmouth College. 
William Pinckney was recruiting his great faculties, and 
replenishing that reservoir of professional and elegant 
acquisition in Europe. Samuel Dexter, "the honorable 
man, and the councillor, and the elegant orator," was in 
his grave. The boundless old-school learning of Luther 
Martin ; the silver voice and infinite analytical ingenuity 
and resources of Jones, the fervid genius of Emmett, 
pouring itself along immenso ore ; the ripe and beautiful 
culture of Wirt and Hopkinson — the steel point unseen, 
not unfelt, beneath the foliage ; these -and such as these 
were left of that noble Bar. That day, Mr. Webster 
opened the case of Dartmouth College to a tribunal unsur- 
passed on earth in all that gives illustration to a Bench of 
Law, not one of whom any longer survives. 

One would love to linger on the scene, when, after a 
masterly argument of the law, — carrying, as we may now 
know, conviction to the general mind of the court, and 



506 EULOGIES OX WEBSTER. 

vindicating and settling for his lifetime his place in that 
forum — he paused to enter, with an altered feeling, tone, 
and manner, with these words, on his peroration : " I have 
brought my alma mater to this presence, that if she must 
fall, she may fall in her robes, and with dignity ;" and then 
broke forth in that strain of sublime and pathetic elo- 
quence, of which we know not much more than that, in its 
progress, Marshall — the intellectual, the self-controlled, the 
unemotioned — announced visibly the presence of the unac- 
customed enchantment. 

Other forensic triumphs crowd upon us — in other com- 
petition — with other issues. But I must commit them to 
the historian of constitutional jurisprudence. 

And now, if this transcendent professional reputation 
were all of Mr. Webster, it might be practicable, though 
not easy, to find its parallel elsewhere — in our own, or in 
European or classical biography. 

But when you consider that, side by side with this, there 
was growing up that other reputation — that of the first 
American statesman ; that for thirty-three years — those 
embracing his most herculean works at the Bar — he wa3 
eii£ao;ed a s a member of either House, or in the highest 
Executive Departments, in the conduct of the largest na- 
tional affairs ; in the treatment of the largest national 
questions ; in debate with the highest abilities of American 
public life ; conducting diplomatic intercourse *in delicate 
relations with all classes of foreign powers ; investigat- 
ing whole classes of truths, totally unlike the truths of 
law, and resting' on principles totally distinct, — and that 
here, too, he was wise, safe, controlling, trusted, the fore- 
most man ; that Europe had come to see in his life a 
guarantee for justice, for peace, for the best hope of civili- 
zation, and America to feel sure of her glory, her safety, 
as a great arm enfolded her ; — you see how rare, how soli- 
tary almost was the actual greatness ! Who anywhere has 
seen, as he had, the double fame, wore the double wreath 
of Murray and Chatham ; or of Dunning and Fox ; or of 
Erskine and Pitt ; or of William Pinckney and Rufus King, 
in one transcendent superiority ? 

I cannot attempt to grasp and sum up' the aggregate of 
[lie service of his public life at such a moment as this — 



RUFUS CIIOATE'S ADDRESS. 507 

and it is needless. That it comprised a term of more than 
thirty-three years. It produced a body of performances 
of which I may say generally, it was all which the first 
abilities of the country and time, employed with unex- 
ampled toil, stimulated by the noblest patriotism ; in the 
highest places of the state — in the fear of God — in the 
presence of nations — could possibly compass. 

He came into Congress after the war of 1812 had begun, 
and though probably deeming it unnecessary, according to 
the highest standards of public necessity, in his private 
character — and objecting in his public to some of the de- 
tails of the policy by which it was prosecuted, and stand- 
ing by party ties in general opposition to the administra- 
tion — he never breathed a sentiment calculated to depress 
the tone of the public mind ; to aid or comfort the enemy ; 
to check or chill the stirrings of that new, passionate, un- 
quenchable spirit of nationality, which then was revealed, 
or kindled to burn till we go down to the tomb of states. 

With the peace of 1815, his more cherished public labors 
began ; and thenceforward has he devoted himself — the 
ardor of his civil youth — the energies of his maturest man- 
hood — the autumnal wisdom of the ripened years — to the 
offices of legislation and diplomacy — of preserving the 
peace — keeping the honor — establishing the boundaries, 
and vindicating the neutral rights of his country — restor- 
ing a sound currency, and laying its foundation sure and 
deep — in upholding public credit — in promoting foreign 
commerce and domestic industry — in developing our un- 
counted material resources — giving the lake and the river 
to trade — and vindicating and interpreting the Constitution 
and the law. On all these subjects — on all measures prac- 
tically in any degree affecting them — he has inscribed his 
opinions and left the traces of his hand. Everywhere the 
philosophical and patriotic statesman and thinker will find 
that he has been before him, lighting the way — sounding 
the abyss. His weighty language — his sagacious warnings 
— his great maxims of empire — will be raised to view, and 
lire to be deciphered when the final catastrophe shall lift 
the granite foundation in fragments from its bed. 

In this connection, I cannot but remark to how extra- 
ordinary an extent had Mr. Webster, by his acts, words. 



508 EULOGIES OX WEBSTER. 

thoughts, or the events of his life, associated himself for- 
ever in the memory of all of us with every historical inci- 
dent, or at least with every historical epoch ; with every 
policy, with every glory, with every great name and fun- 
damental institution, and grand or beautiful image, which 
are peculiarly and properly American. Look backwards 
to the planting of Plymouth and Jamestown, to the various 
scenes of colonial life in peace and war ; to the opening, 
and march, and close of the Revolutionary drama — to the 
age of the Constitution — to Washington, and Franklin, 
and Adams, and Jefferson — to the whole train of causes 
from the Reformation downward, which prepared us to be 
Republicans — to that other train of causes which led us to 
be Unionists ; look round on field, workshop, and deck, 
and hear the music of labor rewarded, fed and protected 
— look on the bright sisterhood of the States, each sing- 
ing as a seraph in her motion, yet blending in a common 
beam and swelling a common harmony — and there is 
nothing which does not bring him by some tie to the 
memory of America. 

We seem to see his form and hear his deep, grave speech 
everywhere. By some felicity of his personal life ; by 
some wise, deep or beautiful word spoken or written ; by 
some service of his own, or some commemoration of the 
services of others, it has come to pass that " our granite 
hills, our inland seas, and prairies, and fresh, unbounded, 
magnificent wilderness ;" our encircling ocean; the rock 
of the Pilgrims; our new-born sister of the Pacific; our 
popular assemblies ; our free schools, all our cherished 
doctrines of education, and of the influence of religion, 
and material policy and law, and the Constitution, give us 
back his name. What American landscape will you look 
on — what subject of American interest will you study — 
what source of hope or of anxiety, as an American, will 
you acknowledge, that it does not recall him ? 

I shall not venture, in this rapid and general recollec- 
tion of Mr. Webster, to attempt to analyze that intellec- 
tual power which all admit to have been so extraordinary, 
or to compare or contrast it with the mental greatness of 
others — in variety or degree — of the living or the dead ; 
or even to attempt to appreciate exactly, and in reference 



RUFUS en date's address. 509 

to canons of art, his single attribute of eloquence. Con- 
sider, however, the remarkable phenomenon of excellence 
in three unkindred, one might have thought incompatible, 
forms of public speech — that of the forum, with its double 
audience of bench and jury, — of the halls of legislation — ■ 
and of the most thronged and tumultuous assemblies of 
the people. 

Consider, further, that this multiform eloquence, exactly 
as his words fell, became at once so much accession to per- 
manent literature, in the strictest sense — solid, attractive, 
and rich — and ask how often in the history of public life 
such a thing has been exemplified. Recall what pervaded 
all these forms of displa} r , and every effort in every form, 
that union of marked intellect in its largest measure, which 
penetrates to the exact truth of the matter in hand by 
intuition, or by inference, and discerns every thing which 
may make it intelligible, probable, and creditable to an- 
other, with an emotional and moral nature, profound, pas- 
sionate, and ready to kindle, and with imagination enough 
to supply a hundredfold more of illustration and aggran- 
dizement than his taste suffered him to accept — that union 
of greatness of soul with depth of heart, which made his 
speaking almost more an exhibition of character than of 
mere genius — the style not merely pure, clear Saxon, but 
so constructed, so numerous as far as becomes prose, so 
forcible, so abounding in unlabored felicities, the words so 
choice, the epithet so pictured, the matter absolute truth, 
or the most exact and spacious resemblance the human wit 
can devise, the treatment of the subject, if you have re- 
gard to the kind of truth he had to handle, political, 
ethical, legal, as deep, as complete, as Paley's, or Locke's, 
or Butler's, or Alexander Hamilton's, of their subjects, 
yet that depth and that completeness of sense, made trans- 
parent as through crystal waters — all embodied in harmo- 
nious or well-composed periods ; raised on winged lan- 
guage, vivified, fused and poured along in a tide of 
emotion, fervid and incapable to be withstood — recall the 
form, the eye, the brow, the tone of voice, the presence 
of the intellectual king of men — recall him thus, and in 
the language of Mr. Justice Story, commemorating Samuel 
Dexter, we may well rejoice that "we have lived in the 

43* 



510 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

same age, that we have listened to his eloquence, and been 
instructed by his wisdom." 

I cannot leave the subject of his eloquence without 
returning to a thought I have advanced already. All that 
he has left — or the larger portion of all — is t,he record of 
spoken words. His works, as already collected, extend to 
many volumes — a library of reason and eloquence, as 
Gibbon has said of Cicero's — but they are volumes of 
speeches only, or mainly ; and yet who does not rank him 
as a great American author — an author as truly expound- 
ing, and as characteristically exemplifying, in a pure, 
genuine and harmonious English style, the mind, thought, 
point of view of objects, and essential nationality of his 
country, as any of our authors, professionally so deno- 
minated ? Against the maxim of Mr. Fox, his speeches 
read well, and yet were good speeches, great speeches, in 
the delivery. For so grave were they, so thoughtful and 
true — so much the eloquence of reason at last — so strik- 
ingly, always, they contrived to link the immediate topic 
with other and broader principles ; ascending easily to 
widest generalizations — so happy was the reconciliation 
of the qualities which engage the attention of hearers, yet 
reward the perusal of students — so critically did they 
keep the right side of the line which parts eloquence from 
rhetoric, and so far do they rise above the penury of mere 
debate, that the general reason of the country has en- 
shrined them at once and forever among our classics. 

It is a common belief that Mr. Webster was a various 
reader ; and I think it is true, even to a greater degree 
than has been believed. In his profession of politics, 
nothing, I think, worthy of attention had escaped him — 
nothing of the ancient or modern prudence, nothing which 
Greek, or Roman, or European, or Universal History, or 
public Biography exemplified. I shall not soon forget 
with what admiration he spoke at an interview to which 
lie admitted me while in the Law School at Cambridge, 
of the politics and ethics of Aristotle, and of the mighty 
mind which, as he said, seemed to have "thought through" 
all the great problems which form the discipline of social 
man. American history and American political literature 
he had by heart — the long series of influences which trained 



RUFUS CHOATE'S ADDRESS. 511 

us for representative and free government ; that other 
series of influences which moulded us into a united go 
vernment ; the colonial era ; the age of controversy before 
the Revolution ; every scene and every person in that great 
tragic action ; every question which has successively en- 
gaged our politics, and every name which has figured in 
them— the whole stream of our* time was open, clear and 
present, even, to his eye. 

Beyond his profession of politics, so "to call it, he had 
been a diligent and choice reader, as his extraordinary 
style in part reveals ; and I think the love of reading 
would have gone with him, to a later and riper age, if to 
such an age it had been the will of God to reserve him. 
This is no place or time to appreciate this branch of his 
acquisitions ; but there is an interest inexpressible in 
knowing who were any of the chosen from among the 
great dead, in the library of such a man. Others may 
correct me, but I should say of that interior and narrower 
circle were Cicero, Virgil, Shakspeare, Bacon, Milton, 
Burke, Johnson, — to whom I hope it is not pedantic nor 
fanciful to say, I often thought his nature presented some 
resemblance ; the same abundance of the general proposi- 
tions required for explaining a difficulty and returning a 
sophism, copiously and promptly occurring to him — the 
same kindness of heart and wealth of sensibility ; under a 
manner, of course, more courteous and gracious, yet more 
sovereign ; the same sufficient, yet not predominant ima- 
gination, stooping ever to truth, and giving affluence, viva- 
city and attraction to a powerful, correct and weighty style 
of prose. 

I cannot leave his life and character without selecting 
and dwelling a moment on one or two of his traits, or vir- 
tues, or facilities, a little longer. There is a collective im- 
pression made by the whole of an eminent person's life* 
beyond and other than, and apart from, that which the 
mere general biographer would afford the means of explain- 
ing. There is an influence of a great man, derived from 
things, indescribable almost, or incapable of enumeration, 
or singly insufficient to account for it, but through which his 
spirit transpires, and his individuality goes forth on the 
contemporary generation. And thus, I should say, one 



512 eut,(k;tf.^ oa t webstrr. 

great tendency of bis life and character was, to elevate the 
whole tone of the public mind. He did this, indeed, not 
merely by example ; he did it by dealing, as he thought, 
truly, and in. manly fashion, with that public mind. He 
evinced his love for the people, not so much by honeyed 
phrases, as by good counsels and useful service — vera 'pro 

gratis. 

He showed how he appreciated them by submitting 
sound arguments to their understandings, and right motives 
to their free will. He came before them less with flattery 
than with instruction ; less with a vocabulary larded with 
the words humanity and philanthropy, and progress and 
brotherhood, than with a scheme of politics, an educational, 
social and governmental system, which would have made 
them prosperous, happy and great. 

What the Greek historians said of Pericles, we all feel 
might be said of him : "He did not so much follow as lead 
the people, because he framed not his words to please them, 
like one who is gaining power by unworthy means, but was 
able, and dared on the strength of high character, even to 
brave their anger by contradicting their will." 

I should indicate it as another influence of his life, acts 
and opinions, that it was in an extraordinary degree uni- 
formly and liberally conservative. He saw, with the vision 
as of a prophet, that if our system of united government 
can be maintained till a nationality shall be generated of 
due intensity and due comprehension, a glory indeed mil- 
lennial, a progress without end— a triumph of humanity 
hitherto unseen — were ours, and therefore he addressed 
himself to maintain that united government. 

Standing on the rock of Plymouth, he bid distant gene- 
rations hail, and saw them rising, — demanding life — " im- 
patient from the skies," from what then were " fresh, un- 
bounded, magnificent wildernesses" — from the shore of the 
great tranquil sea — not yet become ours. But observe to 
what he would welcome them. It is " to good government." 
It is to " treasures of science and delights of learning." 
It is to the "sweets of domestic life — the immeasurable 
good of a rational existence — the immortal hopes of Chris- 
tianity — the light of everlasting truth." 

It will be happy, if the wisdom and temper of his ad- 



RUE US choate's address. 513 

* 

ministration of our foreign affairs shall preside in the time 
which is at hand. Sobered, instructed by the examples and 
warnings of all the past, he yet gathered, from the study 
and comparison of all the eras, that there is a silent pro- 
gress of the race without return, to which the counsellings 
of history are to be accommodated by a wise philosophy. 
More than or as much as that of any of our public cha- 
racters, his statesmanship was one which recognised a 
Europe, an Old World, but yet grasped the capital idea 
of the American position, and deduced from it the whole 
fashion and color of its policy ; which discerned that we 
are to play a high part in human affairs, but discerned 
also what part it is, peculiar, distant, distinct and grand, 
as our hemisphere ; an influence, not a contact — the stage 
— the drama — the catastrophe, all but the audience, all our 
own ; and if ever he felt himself at a loss, he consulted, 
reverently, the genius of Washington. 

In bringing these memories to a conclusion- — for I omit 
many things, because I dare not trust myself to speak of 
them — I shall not be misunderstood or give offence, if I 
hope that one other trait in his public character, one doc- 
trine, rather, of his political creed, may be remembered and 
appreciated. It is one of the two fundamental precepts in 
which Plato, as expounded by the great master of Latin 
eloquence, and reason and morals, comprehends the duty 
of those who share in the conduct of the state, " Ut quce- 
cunque agunt, TOTUM corpus reipublicce eurent nedum 
partem aliquam tuentur, reliquas deserant" that they com- 
prise in their care the whole body of the republic, nor 
keep one part and desert another. He gives the reason, 
one reason, of the precept, "Qui autem parti cimum consu- 
lant, partem negligunt rem perniciosissimam in civitatem 
indueunt seditionem atque diseordiam." The patriotism 
which embraces less than the whole, induces sedition and 
discord, the last evil of the State. 

How profoundly he had comprehended this truth — with 
what persistency, with what passion, from the first hour 
he became a public man to the last beat of the great heart, 
he cherished it — how little he accounted the good, the 
praise, the blame, of this locality or that, in comparison 
of the larger good and the general and thoughtful approval 



514 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

of his own, and our, whole America, — she this day feels 
and announces. Wheresoever a drop of her blood flows in 
the veins of man, this trait is felt and appreciated. The 
hunter beyond Superior — the fisherman on the deck of the 
nigh night-foundered skiff — the sailor on the uttermost sea 
— will feel, as he hears these tidings, that the protection 
of a sleepless, all-embracing, parental care is withdrawn 
from him for a space ; and that his pathway henceforward 
is more solitary and less safe than before. 

But I cannot pursue these thoughts. Among the eulogists 
who have just uttered the eloquent sorrow of England at. 
the death of the great Duke — one has employed an image 
and an idea, which I venture to modify and appropriate : 

" The Northman's image of death is finer than that of 
other climes ; no skeleton, but a gigantic figure, that en- 
velops men within the massive folds of its dark garment. 
Webster seems so enshrouded from us as the last of the 
mighty three, themselves following a mighty series ; the 
greatest closing the procession. The robe draws round 
him, and the era is past." 

Yet how T much there is which that all-ample fold shall 
not hide ! — the recorded wisdom ; the great example ; the 
assured immortality. 

They speak of moments ! 

"Nothing need cover his high fame but heaven, 
No pyramids set off his memories, 
But the eternal substance of his greatness, 

TO WHICH I LEAVE HIM." 



XVI. 

EULOGY PRONOUNCED ON MR. WEBSTER IN FANEUIL HALu 
BOSTON, BY GEORGE S. HILLARD, ESQ. 

It is now twenty-six years since the heart of the nation 
was so deeply moved by the death of two great founders 
of the Republic, on the fiftieth anniversary of the day 
when its independence was declared. Then, for the first 



GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 515 

time, these consecrated walls wore the weeds of mourning. 
Then the multitude that filled this hall were addressed by 
a man whose thoughts rose without effort to the height of 
his great theme. He seemed inspired by the occasion, and 
he looked and spoke like one on whom the mantle of some 
ascended prophet had at that moment fallen. He lifted 
up and bore aloft his audience on the wings of his mighty 
eloquence. His words fell upon his hearers with irresistible, 
subduing power, and their hearts poured themselves forth 
in one deep and strong tide of patriotic and reverential 
feeling. 

And now he, that was then so full of life and power, has 
gone to join the patriots whom he commemorated. Web- 
ster is no more than Adams and Jefferson. The people, 
that then came to listen to him, are now here to mourn for 
him. His voice of wisdom and eloquence is silent. The 
arm on which a nation leaned is stark and cold. The heroic 
form is given back to the dust. We that delighted to honor 
him in life are now here to honor him in death. One circle 
of duties is endecl and another is begun. We can no longer 
give him our confidence, our support, our suffrages ; but 
memory and gratitude are still left to us. As he has not 
lived for himself alone, so he has not died for himself alone. 
The services of his life are crowned and sealed with the 
benediction of his death. So long as a man remains upon 
earth, his life is a fragment. It is exposed to chance and 
change, to the shocks of fate and the assaults of trial. 
But the end crowns the work. A career that is closed be- 
comes a firm possession and a completed power. The arch 
is imperfect till the hand of death has fixed the keystone. 

The custom of honoring great public benefactors by these 
solemn observances is natural, just and wise. But the 
tributes and testimonials which we offer to departed worth 
are for the living, and not for the dead. Eulogies, monu- 
ments and statues can add nothing to the peace and joy 
of that serene sphere into which the great and good, who 
have finished their earthly career, have passed. But these 
expressions and memorials do good to those from whom 
they flow. They lift us above the region of low cares and 
selfish struggles. They link the present to the past, and 
the world of sense to the world of thought. They break 



516 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

the common course of life with feelings brought from a 
higher region. Who can measure the effect of a scene like 
this — these mourning Avails — these saddened faces — these 
solemn strains of music? The seed of a deep emotion 
here planted may ripen into the fruit of noble action. 

A great man is a gift, in some measure, a revelation of 
God. A great man, living for high ends, is the divinest . 
thing that can be seen on earth. The value and interest 
of history are derived chiefly from the lives and services 
of the eminent men whom it commemorates. Indeed, with- 
out these, there would be no such thing as history, and the 
progress of a nation would be as little worth recording, as 
the "march of a trading caravan across a desert. The death 
of Mr. Webster is too recent, and he was taken away too 
suddenly from a sphere of wide and great influence,- for 
the calm verdict of history to be passed upon him, and an 
accurate gauge to be taken of his works and claims. But 
all men, whatever may have been the countenance they 
turned toward him in life, now feel that he was a man of 
the highest order of greatness, and that whatever of power, 
faculty and knowledge there was in him was given freely, 
heartily, and during a long course of years, to the service 
of his "country. He who, in the judgment of all, was a 
great man and a great patriot, not only deserves these 
honors at our hands, but it would be disgraceful in us to 
withhold them. We among whom he lived, who felt the 
power of his magnificent presence, — his brow, his eyes, his 
voice, his bearing, — can never put him anywhere but in 
the front rank of the great men of all time. In running 
ilong the line of statesmen and orators, we light upon the 
name of no one to whom we are willing to admit his infe- 
riority. 

The theory that a great man is merely the product of 
his age, is rejected by the common sense and common ob- 
servation of mankind. The power that guides large niasses 
of men, and shapes the channels in which the energies of a 
great people flow, is something more than a mere aggregate 
of derivative forces. It is a compound product, in which 
the genius of the man is one element, and the sphere opened 
to him by the character of his age and the institutions of 
his country is another. In the case of Mr. Webster, wo 



GEORGE & HlLfciltD's EULOGY. 517 

have a full co-operation of these two elements. Not only 
did he find opportunities for his great powers, but the 
events of his life, and the discipline through which he 
passed, were well fitted to train him up to that commanding 
intellectual stature, and perfect intellectual symmetry, 
which have made him so admirable, so eminent, and so 
useful a person. 

He was fortunate in the accident, or rather the provi- 
dence, of his birth. His father was a man of uncommon 
strength of mind and worth of character, who had served 
his country faithfully in trying times, and earned in a high 
degree the respect and confidence of his neighbors — a man 
of large and loving heart, whose efforts and sacrifices for 
his children were repaid by them with most affectionate 
veneration. The energy and good sense of his mother 
exerted a strong influence upon the minds and characters 
of her children. He was born to the discipline of poverty ; 
but a poverty such as braces and stimulates, not such as 
crushes and paralyzes. The region in which his boyhood 
was passed was new and wild, books were not easy to be 
had, schools were only an occasional privilege, and inter- 
course with the more settled parts of the country was diffi- 
cult and rare. But this scarcity of mental food and mental 
excitement had its advantages, and his training was good, 
however imperfect his teaching might have been. His 
labors upon the farm helped to form that vigorous constitu- 
tion which enabled him to sustain the immense pressure of 
cares and duties laid upon him in after-years. Such books 
as he could procure were read with the whole heart and the 
whole mind. The conversation of a household, presided 
over by a strong-minded father, and a sensible, loving 
mother, helped to train the faculties of the younger mem- 
bers of the family. Nor were their winter evenings want- 
ing in topics which had a fresher interest than any which 
books could furnish. There were stirring tales of the 
Revolutionary struggle and the Old Trench War, in both of 
which his father, had taken a part, with moving traditions 
of. the. hardships and. perils of border-life, and harrowing 
narratives of Indian captivity, all of which sunk deep into 
the heart of the impressible boy. The ample page of na- 
ture was ever before his eyes, not beautiful or picturesque, 

u 



518 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

but stern, wild and solitary, covered with a primeval forest: 
in winter, swept over by tremendous storms, but in summer 
putting on a short-lived grace, and in autumn glowing with 
an imperial pomp of coloring. In the deep, lonely woods, 
by the rushing streams, under the frosty stars of winter, 
the musing boy gathered food for his growing mind. There 
to him the mighty mother unveiled her awful face, and 
there we may be sure that the dauntless child stretched 
forth his hands and smiled. We feel a pensive pleasure in 
calling up the image of this slender, dark-browed, bright- 
eyed youth, going forth in the morning of life to sow the 
seed of future years. A loving brother, and a loving and 
dutiful son, he is cheerful under privation, and patient 
under restraint. "Whatever work he finds to do, w T hether 
with the brain or the hand, he does* it with all his might. 
He opens his mind to every ray of knowledge that breaks 
in upon him. Every step is a progress, and every blow 
removes an obstacle. Onward, ever onward, he moves; 
borne ''against the wind, against the tide," by an impulse 
self-derived and self-sustained. He makes friends, awakens 
interest, inspires hopes. Thus, with these good angels 
about him, he passes from boyhood to youth, and from 
youth to early manhood. The school and the college have 
given him what they had to give ; an excellent professional 
training has been secured ; and now, with a vigorous frame 
and a spirit patient of labor, with manly self-reliance, and 
a heart glowing with generous ambition and warm affec- 
tions, the man, Daniel Webster, steps forth into the arena 
of life. 

From this point his progress follows the natural law of 
growth, and every advance is justified and explained by 
what had gone before. For every thing that he gains he 
has a perfect title to show. He is borne on by no fortu- 
nate accident. The increase of his influence keeps no 
more than pace with the growth of his mind and the de- 
velopment of his character. He is diligent in his calling, 
and faithful to the interests intrusted to his charge. His 
professional bearing is manly and elevated. He has the 
confidence of the court, and the ear of the jury, and has 
fairly earned them both. His business increases, his repu- 
tation is extended, and he becomes a marked man. He is 



GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 519 

not only equal to every occasion, but he always leaves the im- 
pression of having power in reserve, and of being capable of 
still greater efforts. What he does is judicious, and what he 
says is wise. He is not obliged to retrace his steps or qualify 
his statements. He blends the dignity and self-command of 
mature life with the ardor and energy of youth. To such 
a man, in our country, public life becomes a sort of neces- 
sity. A brief service in Congress wins for him the respect 
and admiration of the leading men of the country, who 
see with astonishment in a young New Hampshire lawyer 
the large views of a ripe statesman, and a generous and 
comprehensive tone of discussion, free alike from party bias, 
and sectional narrowness. A removal to the metropolis of 
New England brings increase of professional opportunity, 
and in a few years he stands at the head of the Bar of the 
whole country. Public life is again thrust upon him, and 
at one stride he moves to the foremost rank of influence 
and consideration. His prodigious powers of argument 
and eloquence, freely given to an administration opposed 
to him in politics, crush a dangerous political heresy, and 
kindle a deeper national sentiment. The whole land rings 
with his name and praise, and foreign nations take up and 
prolong the sound. Every year brings higher trusts, 
weightier responsibilities, wider influence, until his country 
reposes in the shadow of his wisdom, and the power that 
proceeds from his mind and character becomes one of the 
controlling forces in the movements and relations of the 
civilized world. 

To trace, step by step, the incidents of such a career, 
would far transcend the limits of a discourse like this, and 
of all places, it is least needed here. Judging of him by 
what he was, as well as by what he did, and analyzing the 
aggregate of his powers, we observe that his life moves in 
three distinct paths of greatness. He was a great lawyer, 
a great statesman, and a great writer. The gifts and train- 
ing, which make a man eminent in any one of these depart- 
ments, are by no means " identical with those which make 
him eminent in any other Very few have attained high 
rank in any two ; and the distinction which Mr. Web- 
ster reached in all the three is almost without parallel in 
history. 



520 EULOGII^ ON WEBSTER. 

He was, from the beginning, more or less occupied with 
public affairs, and he continued to the last to be a prac- 
tising lawyer ; but as regards these tyro spheres of action, 
his life may be divided into two distinct portions. From 
his twenty-third to his forty-first year, the practice of the 
law was his primary occupation and interest, but from the 
latter period to his death, it was secondary to his labors as 
a legislator and statesman. Of his eminence in the law — 
meaning: the law as administered in the ordinary tribunals 
of the country, without reference, for the present, to con- 
stitutional questions — there is but one opinion among com- 
petent judges. Some may have excelled him in a single 
faculty or accomplishment, but in the combination of 
qualities which the law requires, no man of his time was, 
on the whole, equal to him. He was a safe counsellor and 
a powerful advocate — thorough in the preparation of 
causes and judicious in the management of them — quick, 
far-seeing, cautious and bold. His addresses to the jury 
were simple, manly and direct; presenting the strong 
points of the case in his strong way, appealing to the 
reason and conscience, and not to passions and pre- 
judices, and never weakened by over-statement. He laid 
his own mind fairly alongside that of the jury, and won 
their confidence by his sincere w r ay of dealing with them. 
He had the grace to cease speaking when he had come to 
an end. His most conspicuous power was his clearness of 
statement. He threw upon every subject a light like that 
of the sun at noonday. His mind, by an unerring instinct, 
separated the important from the unimportant facts in a 
complicated case, and so presented the former, that he was 
really making a powerful and persuasive argument, when 
he seemed to be telling only a plain story in a plain way. 
The transparency of the stream veiled its depth, and its 
depth concealed its rapid flow. His legal learning was 
accurate and perfectly at command, and he had made him- 
self master of some difficult branches of law, such as 
special pleading and the -law of real property; but the 
memory of some of his contemporaries was more richly 
stored with cases. From his remarkable powers of generali- 
zation, his elementary reading had filled his mind with 
principles, and he examined xhe questions that arose by 



GEORGE S. HILLARD*S EULOGY. 52l 

the light of these principles, and then sought in the books 
for cases to confirm the views which he had reached by re- 
flection. He never resorted to stratagems and surprises, 
nor did he let his zeal for his client run away with his self- 
respect. His judgment was so clear, and his moral sense 
so strong, that he never could help discriminating between 
a good cause and a bad one, nor betraying to a close ob- 
server when he was arguing against his convictions. His 
manner was admirable, especially for its repose — an effect- 
ive quality in an advocate, from the consciousness of 
strength which it implies. The uniform respect with 
which he treated the bench should not be omitted, in sum- 
ming up his merits as a lawyer. 

The exclusive practice of the law is not held to be the 
best preparation for public life. Not only does it invigor- 
ate without expanding — not only does it narrow at the 
same time that it sharpens — but the custom of addressing 
juries begets a habit of over-statement, which is a great 
defect in a public speaker, and the mind that is constantly 
occupied in looking at one side of a disputed question is 
apt to forget that it has two. Great minds triumph over 
these influences, but it is because they never fail, sooner 
or later, to overleap the formal barriers of the law. Had 
Mr. Webster been born in England, and educated to the bar, 
his powers could never have been confined to Westminster 
Hall. He would have been taken up and borne into Parlia- 
ment by an irresistible tide of public opinion. Born where 
he was, it would have been one of the greatest misfortunes, 
if he had narrowed his mind and given up to his clients 
the genius that was meant for the whole country and all 
time. Admirably as he put a case to a jury or argued it 
to the court, it was impossible not to feel that in many in- 
stances an inferior person would have done it nearly or 
quite as well ; and sometimes the disproportion between 
the man and his work was so great that it reminded one 
of the task given to Michael Angelo to make a statue of 
enow. 

His advancing reputation, however, soon led him into a 
class of cases, the peculiar growth of the institutions of 
his country, and admirably fitted to train a lawyer to 
public life, because, though legal in their form, they in- 

44* 



522 EULOGIES ON WEBSTRR. 

volve great questions of politics and government. The 
system under which we live is, in many respects, without a 
precedent. Singularly complicated in its arrangements, 
embracing a general government of limited and delegated 
powers, organized by an interfusion of separate sovereign- 
ties, all with written Constitutions to be interpreted and 
reconciled, the imperfection of human language and the 
strength of human passion leaving a wide margin for war- 
ring opinions, it is obvious to any person of political ex- 
perience that many grave questions, both of construction 
and conflicting jurisdiction, must arise, requiring wisdom 
and authority for their adjustment. Especially must this 
be the case in a country like ours, of such great extent, 
with such immense material resources, and inhabited by so 
enterprising and energetic a people. It was a fortunate — 
may we not say a providential? — circumstance, that the 
growth of the country began to devolve upon the Supreme 
Court of the United States the consideration of this class 
of questions, just at the time when Mr. Webster, in his 
ripe manhood, was able to give them the benefit of his ex- 
traordinary powers of argument and analysis. Previous 
to the Dartmouth College case, in 1818, not many import- 
ant constitutional questions had come before the court, 
and, since that time, the great lawyer, who then broke 
upon them with so astonishing a blaze of learning and 
logic, has exerted a commanding influence in shaping that 
system of constitutional law — almost a supplementary Con- 
stitution — which has contributed so much to our happiness 
and prosperity. Great as is our debt of gratitude to such 
judges as Marshall and Story, it is hardly less great to such 
a lawyer as Mr. Webster. None would have been more 
ready than these eminent magistrates to acknowledge the 
assistance they had derived from his masterly arguments. 

In the discussion of constitutional questions, the mind 
of this great man found a most congenial employment. 
Here, bouks, cases and precedents are of comparatively 
little value. We must ascend to first principles, and be 
guided by the light of pure reason. Not only is a chain 
of logical deduction to be fashioned, but its links must 
first be forged. Geometry itself hardly leads the mind 
into a region of more abstract and essential truth, la 



GEORGE s. iiillard's EULOGY. 523 

these calm heights of speculation and analysis, the genius 
of Mr. Webster moved with natural and majestic sweep 
Breaking away from precedents and details, and soaring 
above the flight of eloquence, it saw the forms of truth in 
the colorless light and tranquil air of reason. When we 
dream of intelligences higher than man, we imagine their 
faculties exercised in serene inquisitions like these, — not 
spurred by ambition, — not kindled by passion, — roused by 
no motive but the love of truth, and seeking no reward but 
the possession of it. 

The respect which has been paid to the decisions of the 
Supreme Court of the United States is one of the signs 
of hope for the future, which are not to be overlooked in 
our desponding moods. The visitor in Washington sees a 
few grave men, in an unpretending room, surrounded by 
none of the symbols of command. Some one of them, in 
a quiet voice, reads an opinion in which the conflicting 
rights of sovereign States are weighed and adjusted, and 
questions, such as have generally led to exhausting wars, 
are settled by the light of reason and justice. This judg- 
ment goes forth, backed by no armed force, but com- 
manded by the moral and intellectual authority of the tri- 
bunal which pronounces it. It falls upon the waves of 
controversy with reconciling, subduing power ; and haughty 
sovereignties, as at the voice of some superior intelligence, 
put oif the mood of conflict and defiance, and yield a 
graceful obedience to the calm decrees of central justice. 
There is more cause for national pride in the deference 
paid to the decisions of this august tribunal, than in al) 
our material triumphs ; and so long as our people are thus 
loyal to reason and submissive to law, it is a weakness to 
despair. 

The Dartmouth College case, which has been already 
mentioned, may be briefly referred to again, since it forms 
an important era in Mr. Webster's life. His argument in 
that case stands out among his other arguments, as his speech 
in reply to Mr. Hayne, among his other speeches. Ko 
better argument has been spoken in the English tongue, in 
the memory of any living man, nor is the child that is born 
to-day likely to live to hear a better. Its learning is 
ample, but not ostentatious ; its logic irresistible ; its elo* 



524 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

quence vigorous and lofty. I have often heard my revered 
and beloved friend, Judge Story, speak with great anima- 
tion of the effect he then produced upon the court. "For 
the first hour," said he, "we listened to him with perfect 
astonishment ; for the second hour, with perfect delight ; 
for the third hour, with perfect conviction." It is not too 
much to say that he entered the court on that day a com- 
paratively unknown name, and left it with no rival but 
Pinckney. All the words he spoke on that occasion have 
not been recorded. When he had exhausted the resources 
of learning and logic, his mind passed naturally and 
simply into a strain of feeling not common to the place. 
Old recollections and early associations came over him, and 
the vision of his youth rose up. The genius of the insti- 
tution where he was nurtured seemed standing by his side 
in weeds of mourning, with a countenance of sorrow. With 
suifused eyes and faltering voice, he broke into an unpre- 
meditated strain of emotion, so strong and so deep that all 
who heard him were borne along with it. Heart answered 
to heart as he spoke, and when he had ceased, the silence 
and tears of the impassive Bench, as well as the excited 
audience, were a tribute to the truth and power of the 
feeling by which he had been inspired. 

With his election to Congress from the city of Boston, 
in 1822, the great labors and triumphs of his life begin. 
From that time until his death, with an interval of about 
two years after leaving President Tyler's Cabinet, he was 
constantly in the public service, as Representative, Sena- 
tor, or Secretary of State. In this period, his biography 
is included in the history of his country. Without paus- 
ing to dwell upon the details, and. looking at his public 
life as a whole, let us examine its leading features and 
guiding principles, and inquire upon what grounds he en- 
joyed our confidence and admiration while living, and is 
entitled to our gratitude when dead. 

Public men, in popular governments, are divided into 
two great classes — statesmen and politicians. The differ- 
ence between them is like the difference between the artist 
and the mechanic. The statesman starts with original 
principles, and is propelled by a self-derived impulse. The 
politician has his course to choose, and puts himself in a 



ge< ];<;!•; s iuli. art's eulogy. 52b 

position to make the best use of the forces which lie out- 
side of him. The statesman's genius sometimes fails in 
read ling its proper sphere, from the want of the politi- 
cian's faculty ; and, on the other hand, the politician's 
intellectual poverty is never fully apprehended till he has 
contrived to attain an elevation which belongs only to the 
statesman. The statesman is often called upon to oppose 
popular opinion, and never is his attitude nobler than 
when so doing ; but the sagacity of the politician is shown 
in seeing, a little before the rest of the world, how the 
stream of popular feeling is about to turn, and so throw- 
ing himself upon it as to seem to be guiding it, while he 
is only propelled by it. A statesman makes the occasion, 
but the occasion makes the politician. 

Mr. Webster was pre-eminently a statesman. He rested 
his claims upon principles ; and by these he was ready to 
stand or fall. In looking at the endowments which he 
brought to the service of his country, a prominent rank is 
to be assigned to that deep and penetrating wisdom which 
gave so safe a direction to his genius. His imagination, 
his passion and his sympathies were all kept in subordi- 
nation to this sovereign power. He saw things as they 
are, neither magnified nor discolored by prejudice or pre- 
possession. He heard all sides, and did not insist that a 
thing"was true because he wished it to be true, or because 
it seemed probable to his first inquiry. His post of ob- 
servation was the central and fixed light of reason, from 
which all wandering and uncertain elements were at last 
discerned in their just relations and proportions. The 
functions of government did not, in his view, lie in the 
regions of speculation or emotion. It was "a contrivance 
of human wisdom to provide ^for human wants." The 
ends of government are, indeed, ever identical ; but the 
means used to attain them are various. The practical 
statesman must aim, not at the best conceivable, but the 
best, attainable, good. Thus. Mr. Webster always recog- 
nised and, accepted the necessities of his position. He 
did not hope against hope, nor waste his energies in 
attempting the impossible. Living under a government in 
which universal suffrage is the ultimate propelling force, 
he received the expressed sense of the people as a fact, and 



526 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

not as an hypothesis. Like all men who are long in public 
life under popular institutions, he incurred the reproach 
of inconsistency; a reproach not resting upon any change 
of principle — for he never changed his principles — but 
upon the modification of measures and policy which every 
enlightened statesman yields to the inevitable march of 
events and innovations of time. 

Nor was he less remarkable for the breadth and compre- 
hensiveness of his views. He knew no North, no South, 
no East, no West. His great mind and patriotic heart 
embraced the whole land with all its interests and all its 
claims. He had nothing of partisan narrowness or sec- 
tional exclusiveness. His point of sight was high enough 
to take in all parts of the country, and his heart was large 
enough and warm enough to love it all, to cling to it, to 
live for it, or die for it. Nothing is more characteristic 
of greatness than this capacity of enlarged and generous 
affections. No public man ever earned more fully the 
title of a national, an American statesman. No heart 
ever beat with a higher national spirit than his. The 
honor of his country was as dear to him as the faces of 
his children. Where that was in question, his great powers 
blazed forth like a flame of fire in its defence. Never 
were his words more weighty, his logic more irresistible, 
his eloquence more lofty — never did his mind move with 
more majestic and victorious flight — than when vindicating 
the rights of his country, or shielding her from unjust 
aspersions. 

It is a hasty and mistaken judgment to gauge the merits 
of a statesman, under popular institutions, by the results 
which he brings about and the measures which he carries 
through. His opportunities in this respect will depend, 
generally, upon the fact whether he happens to be in the 
majority or the minority. How much would be taken 
from the greatness of one of the greatest of statesmen, 
Mr. Fox, if this test were applied to him ! The merits of a 
statesman are. to be measured by the good which he does, 
by the evil which he prevents, by the sentiments which he 
breathes into the public heart, and the principles he dif- 
fuses through the public mind. Mr. Webster did not belong 
to that great political party which, under ordinary circum- 



GEORGE S. KILLARD'S EULOGY. 527 

stances, and when no exceptional elements have been 
thrown in, have been able to command a majority in the 
whole nation, and upon which the responsibility of govern- 
ing the country has been consequently thrown. Thus, for 
the larger part of his public life, he was in the minority. 
But a minority is as important an element, in carrying on 
a representative government, as a majority ; and he never 
transcended its legitimate functions. His opposition was 
open, manly and conscientious ; never factious, never im- 
portunate. He stated fairly the arguments to which he 
replied. He did not stoop to personality, or resort to the 
low and cheap trick of impugning the motives or characters 
of his opponents. He has earned the respect which the 
Democratic party, to their honor be it spoken, have shown 
to his memory. He was a party man, to this extent — he 
believed that, under a popular government, it was expe- 
dient that men of substantially the same way of thinking 
in politics should act together, in order to accomplish any 
general good, but he never gave up to his party what was 
meant for his country. When the turn of the tide threw 
upon him the initiative of measures, no man ever showed 
a wiser spirit of legislation or a more just and enlightened 
policy of statesmanship. He combined what Bacon calls 
the logical with the mathematical part of the mind. He 
could judge well of the mode of attaining any end, and 
estimate, at the same time, the true value of the end itself. 
His powers were by no means limited to attack and de- 
fence, but he had the organizing and constructing mind 
which shapes and fits a course of policy to the wants and 
temper of a great people. 

. His influence as a public man extends over the last 
forty years, and, during that period, what is there that 
does not bear his impress ? Go where we will, upon land 
or sea — from agriculture to commerce, and from commerce 
to manufactures — turn to domestic industry, to foreign 
relations, to law, education and religion —everywhere we 
meet the image and superscription of this imperial mind. 
The Ashburton treaty may stand as a monument of the 
good he did. His speech in reply to Mr. Hayne may be 
cited as a proof of the evil he prevented ; and, for this 
reason, while its whole effect can never be measured, its 



528 EULOGIES OS WEBSTfcR. 

importance can hardly be overrated. Probably no dis- 
course ever spoken by man had a wider, more prominent 
and more beneficial influence. Not only did it com- 
pletely overthrow a most dangerous attack on the Con- 
stitution, but it made it impossible for it ever to be re- 
newed. From that day forward the specious front of 
nullification was branded with treason. If we estimate 
the claims of a public man by his influence upon the na- 
tional heart and his contributions to a high-toned national 
sentiment, who shall stand by the side of Mr. Webster? 
Where is the theory of constitutional liberty better ex- 
pounded, and the rules and conditions of national well- 
being and well-doing better laid down, than in his speeches 
and writings ? What books should we so soon put into 
the hands of an intelligent foreigner, who desired <o learn 
the great doctrines of government and administration on 
which the power and progress of our country repose, and 
to measure the intellectual stature of a finished American 
man ? 

The relation which he held to the politics of the country 
was the natural result of a mind and temperament like his. 
A wise patriot, who understands the wants of his time, will 
throw himself into the scale which most needs the weight 
of his influence, and choose the side which is best for his 
country and not for himself. Hence, it may be his duty 
to espouse defeat, and cleave to disappointment. In weigh- 
ing the two elements of law and liberty, as they are mingled 
in our country, he felt that danger was rather to be appre- 
hended from the preponderance of license than of authority 
— that men were attracted to liberty by the powerful in- 
stincts of the blood and heart, but to law by the colder and 
fainter suggestions of the reason. Hence he was a con- 
servative at home, and gave his influence to the party of 
permanence rather than progression. But in Europe it was 
different. There he saw that there were abuses to be re- 
formed, and burdens to be removed ; that the principle of 
progress-was to be encouraged, and that larger infusions 
of liberty should be poured into the exhausted frames of 
decayed states. Hence, his sympathies. were always on 
the side of the struggling and the suffering; and, through 
his powerful voice, the public opinion of America made 



GEOKGE P. mLLAiaVs EULOGY. 529 

itself heard and respected in Europe. It is a fact worthy 
of being stated in this connection, that at the moment when 
a tempest of obloquy was beating upon him, from his sup- 
posed hostility to the cause of freedom here, a very able 
writer of the Catholic faith, in a striking and, in many 
respects, admirable essay upon his writings and public life, 
came reluctantly and respectfully to the conclusion that 
Mr. Webster had forfeited all claim to the support of Ca- 
tholic voters, from the countenance he had given to the 
revolutionary spirit of Europe. Such are ever the judg- 
ments passed by fragmentary men upon a universal man. 

His strong sense of the value of the Union, and the force 
and frequency with which he discoursed upon this theme, 
are to be explained by the same traits of mind and cha- 
racter. He believed that we were more in danger of 
diffusion than consolidation. He felt that all the primal 
instincts of patriotism — all the chords of the heart — 
bound men to their own State, and not to the common 
country; and that with the territorial increase of that 
country it became more and more difficult for the_ central 
heart to propel to the extremities the. life-blood of invigor- 
ating national sentiment, without which a State is but a 
political corporation without a soul. He knew, too. that 
the name of a Union might exist without the substance; 
and that a Union for mutual annoyance and defiance, and 
for mutual aid and support, which kept the word of pro- 
mise to the ear and broke it to the hope, was hardly worth 
the having. Hence, he labored earnestly and persevenngly 
to inculcate a love of the Union, and to present the whole 
country as an object to be cherished, honored and valued, 
because he felt that on that side our affections needed to 
be quickened and strengthened. 

As was to be expected, so powerful a man could not 
pass through life without encountering strong opposition. 
All his previous experiences, however, were inconsiderable 
in comparison with the storm of denunciation which he 
drew down upon himself by his course on what are com- 
monly called the Compromise Measures, and, especially, 
his speech on that occasion. It was natural that men, 
whose fervid sympathies are wedded to a single idea, 
should have felt aggrieved by the stand he then took \ and 

45 



580 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

if decency and decorum had governed their expressions, 
neither he nor his friends could have had any right tc 
complain. But, in many cases, the attacks were so foul 
and ferocious that they lost all claim to be treated as 
moral judgments, and sunk to the level of the lowest and 
coarsest effusions of malice and hatred. It is a good rule 
in politics, as elsewhere, to give men credit for the motives 
they profess to be actuated by, and to accept their own 
exposition of their opinions as true. Let us apply these 
rules to his course at that time. He had opposed the ad- 
mission of Texas, and predicted the truin of evils which 
would come with it. He had warned the North of the 
perilous questions with which that mtasure was fraught. 
But his prophetic voice was unheedeu. Between zeal on 
one side, and apathy on the other, Texas ^ame in. Then 
war with Mexico followed, ending in conquest, and leaving 
the whole of that unhappy country at our mercy. Mr. 
Webster opposed the dismemberment of Mexico, provided 
for in the treaty of peace, on the ground that no sooner 
should we have the immense territory, which we proposed 
to take, than the question whether slavery should exist 
there, would agitate the country. But again the warning 
voice of his wisdom was unheeded, and the storm, which 
he had predicted, gathered in the heavens. The questions 
against which he had forewarned his countrymen now 
clamored for settlement, and would not be put by They 
required for their adjustment the most of reason and the 
least of passion, and they were met in a mood which com- 
bined the most of passion and the least of reason. The 
North and the South met in " angry parle," and the air 
was darkened with their strife. Mr. Webster's prophetic 
spirit was heavy within him. He felt that a crisis had 
arrived in the history of his country, and that the lot of a 
solemn duty and a stern self-sacrifice had fallen upon him. 
As he himself said, "he had made up his mind to embark 
alone on what he was aware would prove a stormy sea, 
because, in that case, should disaster ensue, there would 
be but one life lost." In this mood of calm and high re- 
solve he went forward to meet the portentous issue. 

It is not to be expected that a speech made under such 
circumstances, going over so wide a range of exciting 



GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 531 

topics, should, in every part, command the immediate and 
entire assent even of those who would admit its truth and 
seasonableness as a whole. It is also doubtless true, that 
there are single expressions in it, which, when torn from 
their context and set by the side of passages from former 
speeches dealt with in like manner, will not be found abso- 
lutely identical. But the speech of such a man, at such a 
crisis, is not to be dissected and criticized like a rhetorical 
exercise. It should be judged as a whole, and read by the 
light of the occasion which gave it birth. 

The judgments which Mr. Webster's course has called 
forth were widely divided. By those who hold extreme 
views, he was charged with expressing sentiments which 
he did not believe to be true. It was a bid for the 
Presidency, and his conscience was the price he offered.. 
It is a mere waste of words to argue with men of this 
class. Fanaticism darkens the mind, and hardens the 
heart, and where there is neither common sense nor com- 
mon charity, the first step in a process of reasoning cannot 
be taken. Others maintained that he was mistaken in 
point of fact, that he took counsel of his fears and not of 
his wisdom, and that, through him, the opportunity was 
lost of putting down the South in an open struggle for 
influence and power. But, in the first place, it is not 
probable that a man who, upon subordinate questions, had 
shown so much political wisdom and forecast, should have 
been mistaken upon a point of such transcendent import- 
ance, to which his attention had been so long and so ear- 
nestly directed ; and, in the second place, the testimony of 
all men whose evidence would be received with respect 
upon any similar subject, fully sustains Mr. Webster in 
the views he then took of the state of the country, and is 
equally strong as to the value of the services he rendered. 
]n such an issue, the testimony of retired persons, living 
among books and their own thoughts, is not entitled to 
any great value, because they can have no adequate notion 
of the duties, responsibilities or difficulties of governing a 
great state, and what need there is of patience and renun- 
ciation in those who are called to this highest of human 
functions. A statesman has the right to be tried by hia 
peers. 



532 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

It is curious to observe how hatred, whether personal or 
political, when it enters into the mind, disturbs its func- 
tions, as a piece of iron in the binnacle of a ship misleads 
the compass. Many who have found it so hard to forgive 
Mr. Webster for his independence in opposing them, would 
admit the importance of having a class of public men who 
will lead the people and not be led by them, and that a 
great man is never so great as when withstanding their 
dangerous wishes and calmly braving their anger. Their 
eyes will sparkle when they speak of the neutral counte- 
nance of Washington, undismayed by Jacobin clamor, and 
of the sublime self-devotion of Jay. It is strange that 
they cannot, or will not, for a moment look at Mr. Web- 
ster's position from a point of view opposite to their own, 
admit that he may have been in the right, and see him 
clad in the beauty of self-sacrifice. It is to be feared that 
this form of virtue is growing more and more rare, as it 
is more and more needed. The story of Curtius leaping 
into a gulf in the Roman forum is but the legendary 
form in which a perpetual truth is clothed. In the path 
of time there are always chasms of error, which only a 
great self-immolating victim can close. The glory has 
departed from the land in which that self-devoting stock 
has died out. 

Mr. Webster was an ambitious man. He desired the 
highest office in the gift of the people. But on this sub- 
ject, as on all others, there was no concealment in his 
nature. An ambition is not a weakness, unless it be dis- 
proportioned to the capacity. To have more ambition 
than ability, is to be at once weak and unhappy. With 
him it was a noble passion, because it rested upon noble 
powers. He was a man cast in a heroic mould. His 
thoughts, his wishes, his passions, his aspirations, were all 
on a grander scale than those of other men. Unexercised 
capacity is always a source of rusting discontent. Tho 
height to which men may rise is in proportion to the up- 
v.;ii(l force of their genius, and they will never be calm 
till they have attained their predestined elevation. Lord 
Bacon s:ivs. " As ha nature things move violently to their 
place, and calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is 
violent; in authority, settled and calm." Mr. Webster 



had a giant's brain and a giant's heart, and he wanted a 
giant's work. He found repose in those strong conflicts 
and great duties which crush the weak and madden the 
sensitive. He thought that, if he were elevated to the 
highest place, he should so administer the government as 
to make the country honored abroad, and great and happy 
at home. He thought, too, that he could do something to 
make us more truly one people. This, above every thing 
else, was his ambition. And we, who knew him better 
than others, felt that it was a prophetic ambition, and we 
honored and trusted him accordingly. 

As a writer and as a public speaker upon the great in- 
terests of his country, Mr. Webster stands before us, and 
will stand before those who will come after us, as the lead- 
ing spirit of his time. Sometimes, indeed, his discussions 
may have been too grave to be entirely effective at the 
moment of their delivery, but all of them are quarries of 
political wisdom ; for while others have solved only the 
particular problem before them, he has given the rule that 
reaches all of the same class. As a general remark, his 
speeches are a striking combination of immediate effective- 
ness and enduring worth. He never, indeed, goes out of 
his way for philosophical observations, nor lingers long in 
the tempting regions of speculation, but his mind, while he 
advances straight to his main object, drops from its abun- 
dant stores those words of wisdom which will keep, through 
all time, a vital and germinating power. His logic is vigor- 
ous and compact, but there is no difficulty in following 
his argument, because his reasoning is as clear as it is 
strong. The leading impression he leaves upon the mind 
is that of irresistible weight. We are conscious of a pro- 
pelling power, before which every thing gives way or goes 
down. The hand of a giant is upon us, and we feel that 
it is in vain to struggle. The eloquence of Burke, with 
whom he is always most fitly compared, is like a broad 
river, winding through a cultivated landscape ; that of 
Mr. Webster is like a clear mountain-stream, compressed 
between walls of rock. 

But his claims as a writer do not rest exclusively upon 
his political speeches. His occasional discourses, and his 
diplomatic writings, would alone make a great reputation. 

45* 



534 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

His occasional discourses rise above the rest of their class, as 
the Bunker Hill monument soars above the objects around 
it. His Plymouth Oration, especially, is a production 
which all who have followed in the same path must ever 
look upon with admiration and despair. It was the begin- 
ning of a new era in that department of literature. It 
was the first and greatest of its class, and has naturally 
fixed a standard of excellence which has been felt in the 
efforts of all who have come after him. Its merits of style 
and treatment are of the highest order, and it is marked 
throughout by great dignity of sentiment and an elevating 
and stirring tone of moral feeling, which lifts the mind 
into regions higher than can be reached by eloquence, or 
power of expression alone. 

His diplomatic writings claim unqualified praise. Such 
discussions require a cautious as well as firm hand, for a 
single rash expression, falling upon an explosive state of 
jnind, may shatter to pieces -the most hopeful negotiation. 
Mr. Webster combines great force of statement with per- 
fect decorum of manner. It is the iron hand, but the 
silken glove. He neither claims nor yields a single inch 
beyond the right. His attitude is neither aggressive nor 
distrustful. He is strong in himself and strong in his 
position. His style is noble, dignified and transparent. It 
is the "large utterance" of a great people. I know of no 
modern compositions which, in form and substance, embody 
so much of what we understand by the epithet Roman. 
Such, indeed, we may imagine the state papers of the 
Roman Senate to have been, in the best days of the Re- 
public. 

His arguments, speeches, occasional discourses and 
diplomatic writings have all a marked family likeness. 
They are all characterized by strength and simplicity. He 
never goes out of his way to make a point or drag in an 
illustration. His ornaments, sparingly introduced, are of 
that pure gold which defies the sharpest test of criticism. 
He had more of imagination, properly so called, than 
fancy, and his images are more grand than picturesque. 
He writes like a man who is thinking of his subject, and 
not of his style, and thus wastes no time upon the mere 
^arb of his thoughts. His mind was so full that epithet 



GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 535 

and illustration grew with his words, like flowers on the 
stalk. It is a striking fact that a man who has had so 
great an influence over the mind of America should have 
been so free from our national defects ; our love of exag- 
geration, and our excessive use of figurative language. 
His style is Doric, not Corinthian. His sentences are like 
shafts hewn from the granite of his own hills — simple, 
massive and strong. We may apply to him what Quinti- 
lian says of Cicero, that a relish for his writings is itself a 
mark of good taste. He is always plain ; sometimes even 
homely and unfinished. But a great writer may be, and 
indeed must be, homely and unfinished at times. Dealing 
with great subjects, he must vary his manner. Some things 
he will put in the foreground, and some in the background ; 
some in light, and some in shadow. He will not hesitate, 
therefore, to say plain things in a plain way. When the 
glow and impulse of his genius are upon him, he will not 
stop to adjust every fold in his mantle. His writings will 
leave upon the mind an effect like that of the natural 
landscape upon the eye, where nothing is trim and formal, 
but where all the sweeps and swells, though rarely conform- 
ing to an ideal line of beauty, blend together in a general 
impression of grace, fertility and power. 

His knowledge of law, politics and government was pro- 
found, various and exact ; but a man of learning, in the 
sense in which this word is commonly used, he could not 
be called. His life had been too busy to leave much time 
for scientific or literary research ; nor had he that passion- 
ate love of books which made him content to pass all his 
leisure hours in his library. He had read much, but not 
many books. He was a better Latin scholar than the ave- 
rage of our educated men, and he read the Roman authors, 
to the last, with discriminating relish. A mind like his 
was naturally drawn to the grand and stately march of 
Roman genius. With the best English writers he was en- 
tirely familiar, and he took great pleasure in reading them 
and discussing their merits. 

To science, as recorded in books, he had given little 
time, but he had the faculties and organization which 
would easily have made him a man of science. He had 
the senses of an Indian hunter. Of. the knowledge that 



536 EU10GEBS ON WEP.STKR. 

is gathered by observation- — as of the names and properties 
of plants, the song and plumage of birds, and the forms 
and growth of trees — he had much more than most men 
of his class. His eye was accurate as his mind was dis- 
criminating. Never was his conversation more interesting 
than when speaking of natural objects and natural pheno- 
mena. His words had the freshness of morning, and 
seemed to bring with them the breezes of the hills and the 
fragrance of spring. 

Mr. Webster, both as a writer and a speaker, was un- 
equal, and, from the nature of his mind and temperament, 
it could not be otherwise. He was not of an excitable 
organization, and felt no nervous anxiety lest he should 
fall below the standard of expectation raised by previous 
efforts. Hence, he was swayed by the mood, mental or 
physical, in which each occasion found him. He required 
a great subject, or a great antagonist, to call forth all his 
slumbering power. At times, he looked and spoke almost 
like a superhuman creature ; at others, he seemed but the 
faint reflex of himself. His words fell slowly and heavily 
from his lips, as if each cost him a distinct effort. The in- 
fluence, therefore, which he had over popular assemblies, 
was partly owing to his great weight of character. 

He had strong out-of-door tastes, and they contributed 
to the health of his body and mind. He was a keen sports- 
man, and a lover of the mountains and the sea. His heart 
warmed to a fine tree, as to the face of a friend. He had 
that fondness for agriculture and rural pursuits so common 
among statesmen. Herein the grand scale of the whole 
man gave direction and character to his tastes. He did 
not care for minute finish and completeness on a limited 
scale. He had no love for trim gardens and formal plea- 
sure-grounds. His wishes clasped the whole landscape. 
He liked to see the broad fields of clover, with the morning 
dew upon them, yellow waves of grain heaving and rolling 
in the sun, and great cattle lyings down in the shade of 
great trees. He liked to hear the whetting of the mower's 
scythe, the loud beat of the thresher's flail, and the heavy 
groan of loaded wagons. The smell of the new-mown hay, 
and of- the freshly-turned furrows in spring, was cordial to 
his spirit. He took pleasure i» all forms of animal life, 



GEORGE 6. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 537 

and his heart was glad when his cattle lifted up their large- 
eyed, contemplative faces, and recognised their lord by a 
look. 

His mental powers were commended by a remarkable 
personal appearance. He was probably the grandest-look 
ing man of his time. Wherever he went, men turned to 
gaze at him ; and he could not enter a room without having 
every eye fastened upon him. His face was very striking, 
both in form and color. His brow was to common brows 
what the great dome of St. Peter's is to the small cupolas 
at its side. The eyebrow, the eye, and the dark and deep 
socket in which it glowed, were full of power ; but the 
great expression of his face lay in the mouth. This was 
the most speaking and flexible of features, moulded by 
every mood of feeling, from iron severity to the most cap- 
tivating sweetness. His countenance changed from stern- 
ness to softness with magical rapidity. His smile was 
beaming, warming, fascinating, lighting up his whole face 
like a sudden sunrise. His voice was rich, deep and strong; 
filling the largest space without effort, capable of most 
startling and impressive tones, and, when under excitement, 
rising and swelling into a volume of sound like the roar 
of a tempest. His action was simple and dignified — and 
in his animated moods highly expressive. Those of us who 
recall his presence as he stood up here to speak, in the 
pride and strength of his manhood, have formed from his 
words, looks, tones and actions, an ideal standard of phy 
sical and intellectual power, which we never expect to see 
approached, but by which we unconsciously try the great- 
ness of which we read, as well as that which we meet. 

He was a man more known and admired than understood. 
His great qualities were conspicuous from afar ; but that 
part of his nature, which he shared with other men, was 
apprehended by comparatively few. His manners did not 
always do him justice. For many years of his life, great 
burdens rested upon him, and at times his cares and 
thoughts settled down darkly upon his spirit, and he was 
then a man of an awful presence. He required to be loved, 
before he could be known. He, indeed, grappled his friends 
to him with hooks of steel, but he did not always conciliate 
those who were not his friends. He had a lofty spirit, which 



538 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

could not stoop or dissemble. He could neither affect what 
he did not feel, nor desire to conceal what he did. His 
wishes clung with tenacious hold to every thing they grasped 
— and from those who stood, or seemed to stand, in his way, 
his countenance was averted. Some, who were not unwill- 
ing to become his friends, were changed by his manners 
into foes. He was social in his nature, but not facile. He 
was seen to the best advantage among a few^old and tried 
friends, especially in his old home. Then his spirits rose, 
his countenance expanded, and he looked and mo* r ed like a 
schoolboy on a holiday. Conscious that no unfriendly ear 
was listening to him, his conversation became easy, play- 
ful and natural. His memory was richly stored with cha- 
racteristic anecdotes, and with amusing reminiscences of 
his own early life and of the men who were conspicuous 
when he was young, all of which he narrated with an ad- 
mirable mixture of dignity and grace. Those who saw him 
in these hours of social ease, with his armor off, and the 
current of his thoughts turning, gently and gracefully, to 
chance topics and familiar themes, could hardly believe 
that he was the same man who was so reserved and austere 
in public. 

But, it may be asked, had this great man no faults ? 
Surely he had. No man liveth and sinneth not. There 
were veins of human imperfection running through his 
large heart and large brain. But neither men, nor the 
works of men, should be judged by their defects. Like all 
eminent persons, he fell upon evil tongues ; but those who 
best knew his private life most honored, venerated, and 
loved him. 

He was a man of strong religious feeling. For theolo- 
gical speculations he had little taste, but he had reflected 
deeply on the relations between God and the human soul, 
and his heart was penetrated with a devotional spirit. He 
had been, from his youth upward, a diligent student of the 
Scriptures, and few men, whether clergymen or laymen, 
were more familiar with their teachings and their language. 
He had a great reverence for the very words of the Bible, 
and never used them in any light or trivial connection. 
He never avoided the subjects of life, death and immor 
tality, and when he spoke of them, it was with unusual 



GEORGE S. HILLARD's EULOGY. 589 

depth of feeling and impressiveness of manner. Within 
the last few months of his life, his thoughts and speech 
were often turned upon such themes. He felt that he was 
an old man, and that it became him to set his house in 
order. On the eighteenth day of January last, he had 
completed the threescore and ten years which are man's 
allotted portion, and yet his eye was not dim, nor his 
natural force much abated. But he grew weaker with the 
approach of summer, and his looks and voice, when he last 
addressed us from this place, a few months ago, forced 
upon us the mournful reflection that this great light must 
soon sink below the horizon. But yet, when the news came 
that the hand of death was upon him, it startled us like a 
sudden blow, for he was become so important to us, that we 
could not look steadily at the thought of losing him. You 
remember what a sorrow it was that settled down upon our 
city. The common business of life dragged heavily with 
us in those days. There was but one expression on the 
faces of men, and but one question on their lips. We 
listened to the tidings which canu up, hour after hour, from 
his distant chamber, as men upon the shore, in a night of 
storm, listen to the minute-guns of a sinking ship freighted 
with the treasures of their hearts. The grief of the people 
was eager for the minutest details of his closing hours, and 
he died with his country around his bed. Of the beauty 
and grandeur of that death I need not speak to you, for it 
is fixed in your memories, and deep in your hearts. It fell 
upon the whole land like a voice from heaven. He died 
calmly, simply and bravely. He was neither weary of life, 
nor afraid of death. He died like a husband, a father, a 
friend, a Christian and a man; with thoughtful tenderness 
for all around him, and a trembling faith in the mercy of 
God. He was not tried by long and hopeless suffering; 
nor were his friends saddened by seeing the lights put out 
before the curtain fell. His mind, like a setting sun, seemed 
larger at the closing hour. Such a death narrows the dark 
valley to a span. , Such is a midsummer's day at the poles, 
where sunset melts into sunrise, and the last ray of evening 
is caught up, and appears once more as the first beams of 
the new morning. 

I should not feel that my duty had been wholly dis- 



540 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

charged, did I not speak of the touching simplicity and 
solemnity of his funeral. In his will, made a few days 
before his death, he says : " I wish to be buried without 
the least show or ostentation, but in a manner respectful to 
my neighbors, whose kindness has contributed so much to 
the happiness of me and mine, and for whose prosperity I 
offer sincere prayers to God." His wishes were faithfully 
observed, and, in the arrangements for his funeral, there 
was no recognition of worldly distinction or official rank. 
He was buried simply as the head of a household, after the 
manner of New England. But the immense crowds which 
were there, drawn from all parts of the land by their own 
veneration and love, formed an element of impressiveness 
far above all civil pageantry or military honors. Who, 
that was there present, will ever forget the scene on which 
fell the light of that soft autumnal day ? There was the 
landscape so stamped with his image and identified with his 
presence. There were the trees he had planted, the fields 
over which he had delighted to walk, and the ocean whose 
waves were music to his ear. There was the house with its 
hospitable door ; but the stately form of its master did not 
stand there, with outstretched hand and smile of welcome. 
That smile had vanished forever from the earth, and the 
hand and form were silent, cold and motionless. The dig- 
nity of life had given place to the dignity of death. No 
narrow chamber held that illustrious dust ; no coffin con- 
cealed that majestic frame. In the open air, clad as when 
alive, he lay extended in seeming sleep ; with no touch of 
disfeature upon his brow ; as noble an image of reposing 
strength as ever was seen upon earth. Around him was 
the landscape that he loved, and above him was nothing 
but the dome of the covering heavens. The sunshine fell 
upon the dead man's face, and the breeze blew over it. A 
lover of nature, he seemed to be gathered into her mater- 
nal aims, and to lie like a child upon a mother's lap. We 
felt, as we looked upon him, that death had never stricken 
down, at one blow, a greater sum of life. And whose heart 
Jid not swell, when, from the honored and distinguished 
men there gathered together, six plain Marshfield farmers 
were called forth, to carry the head of their neighbor to 
the grave ? Slowly and sadly the vast multitude followed, 



HIRAM KETCHUM'S EULOGY. 541 

in mourning silence, and he was laid down to rest anions 
dear and kindred dust. There, among the scenes that he 
loved in life, he sleeps well. He has left his name and 
memory to dwell forever upon those hills and valleys, to 
breathe a more spiritual tone into the winds that blow over 
his grave, to touch with finer light the line of the break- 
ing wave, to throw a more solemn beauty upon the hues of 
Autumn and the shadows of twilight. 

But though his mortal form is there, his spirit is here. 
His words are written in living light along these walls. 
May that spirit rest upon us and our children ! May those 
words live in our hearts and the hearts of those who come 
after us ! May wejionor his memory, and show our grati- 
tude for his life by taking heed to his counsels, and walk- 
ing in the way on which the light of his wisdom shines ! 



XVII. 

EULOGY ON MR. WEBSTER, DELIVERED IN NEW YORK 
CITY, BY HIRAM KETCHUM, ESQ. 

" The offices of this day belong less to grief and sorrow 
than congratulation and joy. It is true that our illustrious 
countryman, Daniel Webster, is no longer numbered 
among the living, but it is a subject of congratulation that 
he lived beyond the ordinary period allotted to human life, 
and that he was permitted to die, as he had lived for thirty 
years, in the service of his country ; and at his own home, 
in his own bed, surrounded by his domestic family and 
friends. The great luminary of the bar, the Senate and 
the Council Chamber is set forever, but it is a subject of 
rejoicing that it is set in almost supernatural splendor, ob- 
scured by no cloud, not a ray darkened. 

" I have often heard Mr. Webster express a great dread, 
I may say horrible dread, of a failure of intellect. He 
did not live long enough to experience such failure. 1 
rejoice that he lived long enough to collect, and supervise, 
and publish to the world his own works. Many of our 

46 



542 .EULOGIES OX WEBSTER. 

clistir guished countrymen live only in tradition; but Daniel 
Webster has made up the record for himself; a record 
which discloses, clear as light, his political, moral and re- 
ligious principles — a record containing ' no word which, 
dying, he might wish to blot' or any friend of his desire 
to efface. More than any living man, he has instructed 
the whole generation of American citizens in their political 
duties, and taught the young men of the country how to 
think clearly, reason fairly, and clothe thought in the most 
simple and' beautiful English. He has reared his own 
monument. ' There it stands, and there it will stand for- 
ever !' The rock which was first pressed by the feet of the 
Pilgrims first landing on the. shores of this Western Conti- 
nent is destined long to be remembered ; but not longer 
than the oration commemorating that event, delivered two 
hundred years after it occurred, by Daniel Webster. 

" The monument which indicates the spot where the first 
great battle of the American Revolution was fought will 
stand as long as monumental granite can stand ; but long 
after it is obliterated and scattered, the oration delivered 
on laying its corner-stone, and the other oration, pro- 
nounced nineteen years after, on its completion, will live to 
tell that such a monument was. The names of John 
Adams and Thomas Jefferson will be known to a distant 
futurity ; but I believe that among the last records which 
will tell of their name will be the eulogy, of which they 
were the theme, pronounced by Daniel Webster. We all 
hope, and some of us believe, that the Constitution and 
Union of our country will be perpetual ; but we know that 
the speeches and orations in defence and commendation of 
that Constitution and Union delivered by Daniel Webster 
will live as long as the English language is spoken among 
men. I might refer to the Capitol of the country, to every 
important institution, and every great name in our land 
among the living and the dead, for there is not one of them 
that has not been embalmed in his eloquence. 

" In the few remaining remarks which I have to make," 
continued Mr. Ketchum, " allow me-, sir, to speak of some 
of the personal characteristics of Mr. Webster, as they 
have fallen under my own observation. I have long been 
acquainted with him. Prom all I know, have seen and 



HIRAM KETCHUM'S EULOGY. 543 

heard, I am here, to-day, to bear testimony that Daniel 
Webster, as a public man, possessed the highest integrity. 
He always seemed to me to act under the present conviction 
that whatever he did would be known not only to his con- 
temporaries, but to posterity. He was ' clear in office.' 
He regarded political power as power in trust ; and though 
always willing and desirous to oblige his friends, yet he 
would never, directly or indirectly, violate that trust. I 
have known him in private and domestic life. During the 
last twenty-five years I have received many letters from 
him ; some of which I yet retain, and some have been de- 
stroyed at his request. I have had the pleasure of meet- 
ing him often in private circles and at the festive board, 
where some of our sessions were not short : but neither in 
his letters nor his conversation have I ever known him to 
express an impure thought, an immoral sentiment, or use 
profane language. Neither in w T riting nor in conversation 
have I ever known him to assail any man. No man, in 
my hearing, was ever slandered or spoken ill of by Daniel 
Webster. Never in my life have I known a man whose 
conversation was uniformly so unexceptionable in tone and 
edifying in character. No man ever had more tenderness 
of feeling than Daniel Webster. He had his enemies as 
malignant as any man; but there was not one of them 
who, if he came to him in distress, would not obtain all the 
relief in his power to bestow. To say that he had no weak- 
nesses and failings would be to say that he was not human. 
Those failings have been published to the world, and his 
friends would have no reason to complain of that if they 
had not been exaggerated. It is due to truth and sound 
morality to say, in this place, that no public services, no 
eminent talent, can or should sanctify errors. It was one 
)f Mr. Webster's characteristics that he abhorred all affec- 
tation. That affectation, often seen in young men, of speak- 
ing in public upon the impulse of the moment, without pre- 
vious thought and preparation, of all others he most de- 
d pised. He never spoke without previous thought and 
laborious preparation. As was truly said by my venerable 
friend who just sat down, (Mr. Staples,) he was industrious 
to the end. When, on leaving college, he assumed the 
place of teacher in an academy, in an interior town of New 



544 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 

England, the most intelligent predicted his future emi- 
nence. After his first speech in court, in his native State, 
a learned judge remarked, 'I have just heard a speech 
from a young man who will hereafter become the first man 
in the country.' The predictions that were made of Daniel 
Webster's career were not merely that he would be a great 
man, but the first man. 

" I have often thought that if other men could have been 
as diligent and assiduous as Mr. Webster, they might have 
equalled him in achievement. When he addressed the court, 
the bar, the Senate, or the people, he ever thought he had 
no right to speak without previous preparation. He came 
before the body to which he was to speak with his thoughts 
arrayed in their best dress. He thought this was due to 
men who would stand and hear him ; and the result was 
that every thing he said was always worthy of being read.; 
and no public man in our country has ever been so much 
read. 

" It may be conceded (whether it was a virtue or a weak- 
ness) that Daniel Webster was ambitious. He was. He 
desired to attain high position, and to surpass every man 
who had occupied the same before him. He spared no 
labor or assiduity to accomplish this end. Whether he has 
succeeded or not, posterity must say. I will add, that it is 
true that he desired the highest political position in the 
country ; that he thought he had fairly earned a claim to 
that position. And I solemnly believe that because that 
claim was denied, his days were shortened. I came here, 
sir, to speak of facts as they are ; neither to censure nor to 
applaud any man or set of men : whether what has been 
done has been well done, or what has been omitted has been 
well omitted, the public must decide. May I be permitted 
to add that, though I am no man's worshipper, I have 
deeply sympathized in thought, in word and in act with 
that desire of Mr. Webster ? I have continued this sym- 
pathy with that desire to the last moment of his life. If 
there be honor in this, let it attach to me and mine ; if 
disgrace, let it be visited upon me and my children." 



THE OBSEQUIES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 



The funeral of Mr. Webster, at Marshfield, on Friday, 
was a most imposing spectacle. The " Post" describes it 
as follows : 

The sun had not risen before the people began to gather 
in vehicles of every description. The neighboring towns 
were besieged the night previous with strangers on their 
way to the funeral. Every hotel, private dwelling, barn, 
shed and stable for ten miles around Marshfield were oc- 
cupied on Thursday night. The gathering was large be- 
yond calculation. Every avenue leading to Marshfield 
was thronged with inward-bound vehicles from the time 
named above until the tomb closed over the remains of 
the great departed. The number of carriages was so 
great that the avenues to the grounds in the rear of the 
mansion were thrown open to receive them. Two steam- 
boats, the Mayflower and the Atlantic, entered Green Bay 
freighted with about fifteen hundred people. The last 
named did not land her passengers until near half-past 
two o'clock. The remains of Mr. Webster were removed 
from the library about nine o'clock in the morning to a 
position immediately in front of the mansion, beneath the 
spreading branches of a large and magnificent silver- 
leafed poplar-tree. The cover of the coffin was then 
removed, presenting a view of the entire body. It was 
attired in a suit familiar to all who have ever seen Mr. 
Webster. The Faneuil Hall suit — the blue coat with 
bright buttons, white pants, white vest, white neckerchief, 
with wide collar turned over. The features of Mr. Web- 
ster w T ere natural, and exhibited a marked serenity, seem- 
ing rather to be those of a pleasant sleeper than one in 
the arms of death. The coffin, or " metallic burial-case," is 
very beautiful. It is so constructed as to combine every 
valuable quality for deposit in the earth, and the preserva- 

46* 545 



540 OBSEQUIES OF WEBSTER. 

tion of remains from decomposition. It is similar in its 
outlines to the human form when placed in a horizontal or 
recumbent position. It consists of an upper and lower 
metallic shell, which are joined together in a horizontal 
line in the centre, each part being of about equal depth. 
These shells are more or less curvilinear, and are made 
exceedingly thin, yet being sufficiently strong to resist any 
pressure to which they may be subject while in use. The 
shells have each a narrow flange, which, when placed to* 
gether, are bound by screws, inserted through the flanges 
and cemented at the point of junction with a substance 
which soon becomes as hard as the metal itself. The case 
is enamelled inside and out, and is made thoroughly air- 
tight. The upper shell is raised-work, and ornamented in 
the casting with the appearance of folding drapery thrown 
over the body. This is covered with a rich black drapery, 
neatly gathered and beautifully fringed. The case was 
superbly decorated with chased silver ornaments, with 
flowers and emblems of mortality neatly inwrought. It 
has a heavy oval glass over the face, on which is screwed a 
silver cover ; on the breast of the upper shell is a smooth 
silver plate, upon which is inscribed alone the name of 
Daniel Webster. It has three ornamental silver handles 
on each side. This elegant piece of work was manufac- 
tured by Messrs. Huyler & Putnam, of New York. The 
entire farm, consisting of one thousand seven hundred and 
sixty-two acres, was thrown open to the public, as also was 
the mansion, both of which were inspected in every part 
by the vast multitude, assembled. A stream of human 
beings passed through each room of the lower part of the 
mansion, entering at the eastern door and passing out the 
west, from the hour of ten o'clock in the morning until 
twelve, at the rate of two hundred and twenty-four per- 
sons every five minutes. At eleven o'clock, delegations, 
representing various city governments, and Whig and De- 
mocratic organizations, and literary institutions, arrived. 
General Franklin Pierce was present, under conduct of 
Peter Harvey and James E. Thayer, of Boston, and Dr. 
Putnam, of Roxbury. President King, of the Columbia 
College; the venerable Chief Justice Jones, of New York ; 
Governor Marcv, Judge Parker, and Judge Harris, of 



OTJSEQUTE^ OF WKBSTEB. 



547 



Albany; the Hon. George Griswold, of New York ; Hon 
Abbott Lawrence, Hon. Rufus Choate, President Everett, 
Mr. Ashmun, Robert G. Shaw, his Excellency Governoi 
Boutwell .and Council, General Wilson, President of the 
Massachusetts Senate, and Speaker Banks and Judge 
Sprague, were among the distinguished persons present. 
The body was so arranged, and guarded by a body of 
police from this city, detailed to that duty, that it was wit- 
nessed by nearly all who desired before the services. At 
half-past twelve o'clock it was enclosed, and placed upon 
a plain open hearse, neatly draped, and drawn by two jet 
black horses, appropriately dressed. At this hour the 
services were announced to commence. The officiating 
clergyman, the Rev. Ebenezer Alden, Jr., pastor of the 
Orthodox Society in Marshfield, where Mr. Webster and 
family attended church, occupied a position in the front 
hall, near the door. The crowd at this time, inside and 
outside the door, was very great. The female relatives 
occupied the upper portion of the house.. _ Mr. Alden 
commenced the services by reading a selection from the 
Scripture. He then delivered a feeling address, after 
which prayer followed. 

The procession then formed, composed wholly of males, 
without carriages, and at half-past one moved from the 
residence to the tomb upon an eminence in the rear of the 
mansion, north. This is upon the Webster estate, and in 
the centre of what is called Winslow's Burymg-Ground. 
The remains of Governor Winslow lie here ; also those ot 
Peregrine White, the first person born in this country of 
the Pilgrim stock. About one year since, Mr. Webster 
caused a portion of this place to be enclosed for his own 
family, and a tomb constructed. This tomb was first oc- 
cupied on Thursday by the bodies of Mr. Webster's family, 
all of whom were removed from under St. Paul's Church, 
in this city. The pall-bearers were composed of farmers 
in Mr. Webster's own neighborhood. 

The procession was large, imposing, and solemn. Upon 
reaching the enclosure, the body was placed near the en 
trance, and again opened to view for the relatives and 
friends. Here a delay was occasioned by the arrival ot 
about seven hundred 'persons from Boston, having just 



548 OBSEQUIES OF WEBSTER. 

reached there from the steamer Atlantic, all of whom de- 
sired to witness the remains, and were gratified. At twenty 
minutes before three o'clock the case was again closed, and 
the Rev. Mr. Alden pronounced the prayer and benedic- 
tion. 

The body was placed in a large-sized case, and entombed, 
and the assembled multitude wended their way slowly 
'from the spot. Silently and sadly the gathered host took 
up the line of march homeward, and by four o'clock in the 
afternoon the accustomed quiet reigned within and around 
the fine old mansion of the late illustrious statesman. The 
occasion was one never to be forgotten. It was the most 
solemn and impressive we ever witnessed. It was estimated 
that the funeral was attended by at least ten thousand 
persons. 

The "Boston Atlas," speaking of the ceremonies, says 
that General Pierce, who was present, appeared to be much 
affected. The coffin and remains were exposed to view on 
the lawn in front of the house. 

A large number of bouquets and wreaths of flowers 
covered the body. The pall-bearers, who were all men 
from fifty to seventy years of age, seemed deeply affected 
by the occasion. Each side of the road on the route of 
the procession was lined with people. 

It is impossible for us to convey an idea of the singular 
solemnity and simplicity which characterized the occasion 
It was an appropriate and spontaneous testimony, from 
people of all classes, professions and opinions, to the 
greatness of mind and grandeur of character of him 
whose loss they mourned. 






APPENDIX. 



We conclude the volume by adding a communication of 
Mr. Webster, which sets forth briefly and yet emphatically 
his views in reference to the subject of Southern slavery, — 
the most difficult and dangerous problem connected with 
the interests of the perpetuity of the Union. The opinions 
of the greatest of American statesmen on this subject will 
have a living interest with all classes of intelligent and 
patriotic citizens : — 

LETTER FROM DANIEL WEBSTER TO JOHN TAYLOR. 

''Washington, March 17, 1852. 

" John Taylor : — Go ahead. The heart of the winter 

is broken, and before the first day of April all your land 

/nay be ploughed. Buy the oxen of Captain Marston, if 

you think the price fair. Pay for the hay. I send you a 

check for $160, for these two objects. Put the great oxen 

in a condition to be turned out and fatted. You have a 

good horse-team ; and I think, in addition to this, four oxen 

and a pair of four-year old steers will do your work. If 

549 



I" 



550 APPENDIX. 

you think so, then dispose of the Stevens oxen, or unyoke 
them and send them to pasture, for beef. I know not 
when I shall see you, but I hope before planting. If you 
need any thing, — such as guano, for instance, — write to 
Joseph Breck, Esq., Boston, and he will send it to you. 

" Whatever ground you sow or plant, see that it is in 
good condition. We want no pennyroyal crops. ' A little 
farm well tilled' is to a farmer the next best thing to c a 
little wife well willed.' Cultivate your garden. Be sure 
to produce sufficient quantities of useful vegetables. A 
man may half support his family from a good garden. 
Take care to keep my mother's garden in good order, even 
if it costs you the wages of a man to take care of it. I 
have sent you many garden-seeds. Distribute them among 
your neighbors. Send them to the stores in the village, 
that everybody may have a part of them without cost. I 
am glad that you have chosen Mr. Pike representative. 
He is a true man ; but there are in New Hampshire many 
persons who call themselves Whigs— are no Whigs at all, 
and no better than disunionists. Any man who hesitates 
in granting and securing to ev^ry part of the country its 
constitutional rights is an enemy to the whole country. 

"John Taylor: — If one of your boys should say that 
he honors his father and mother, and loves his brothers 
and sisters, but still insists" that one of them should be 
driven out of the family, what can you say of him but 
this, that there is no real family love in him ? You and 
I are farmers: we never talk politics: our talk is of 
oxen. But remember this: that any man who attempts 



AWKNBIX. ^51 



to excite one part of the country against another is just as 
wicked as he would be who should attempt to get up a 
quarrel between John Taylor and his neighbor old Mr. 
John Sanborn, or his other neighbor, Captain Burleigh. 
There are some animals that live best in the fire; and 
there are some men who delight in heat, smoke, combus- 
tion, and even general conflagration. They do not follow 
the things which make for peace. They enjoy only con- 
troversy, contention, and strife. Have no communion 
with such persons, either as neighbors or politicians. You 
have no more right to say that slavery ought not to exist in 
Virginia than a Virginian has to say that slavery ought to 
exist in New Hampshire. This is a question left to every 
State to decide for itself; and, if we mean to keep the 
States together, we must leave to every State this power 

of deciding for itself. 

« I think I never wrote you a word before on politics. 
1 shall not do it again. I only say, love your country, 
and your whole country ; and when men attempt to per- 
suade you to get into a quarrel with the laws of other 
States, tell them that you mean to mind your own business, 
and advise them to mind theirs. John Taylor, you are a 
free man ; you possess good principles ; you have a large 
family to rear and provide for by your labor. Be thankful 
to the Government which does not oppress you, which does 
not bear you down by excessive taxation, but which holds 
out to you and to yours the hope of all the blessings winch 
liberty, industry, and security may give. John Taylor, 
thank God, morning and evening, that you were born in 



552 



APPENDIX. 



such a country. John Taylor, never write me another 
word upon politics. Give my kindest remembrance to 
your wife and children; and when you look from your 
eastern windows upon the graves of my family, remember 
that he who is the author of this letter must soon follow 
them to another world. 

"Daniel Webster." 






ENOCH KO&GAITS SOffSP 




Mill 



CLEARS 

WINDOWS, 

MARBLE, 

nivj& 

POLISHES 

TIN-WA , . 
jaON,STEEL,&*J. 




CXEt^JBTDa SQ,TT A TTR .ATTO TJlPIilG-HT I>T A TTQ3. 

The demands now made by an educated musical public are so 
exacting, that very few piano-forte manufacturers can produce instru- 
ments that will stand the test which merit requires. 

Sohmer & Co., as manufacturers, rank among this chosen few, 
who are acknowledged to be makers of standard instruments. In 
these days when many manufacturers urge the low price of their 
wares, rather than their superior quality, as an inducement to pur- 
chase, it may not be amiss to suggest that, in a piano, quality and 
price are toe inseparably joined, to expect the one without the other. 

Every piano ought to be judged as to the quality of its tone, its 
touch and its workmanship; if any one of these is wanting in excel- 
lence, however good the others may be, the instrument will be imper- 
fect. It is the combination of all these qualities in the highest degree 
that constitutes the perfect piano, and it is such a combination, as has 
given the SOHMER its hono rable positi on with the trade and public. 

Prices as reasonableas consistent 
with the Highest Standard. 

MANUFACTURERS, 

149 to 155 East 14th St., NX 



jiven the SOHMER its hono rable posit ioi 

SOHMER 



STANDARD PUBLICATIONS. 



Chas. Dickens* Complete Works, 
15 Vols., 12mo, cloth, gilt, $22.50. 

"W. M. Thackeray's Complete 
"Works, 11 Vols,, 12mo, cloth, gilt, 
$1&50. 



George Eliot's Complete "Works, 

8 Vols., 12mo, cloth, gilt, $10.00. 
Plutarch's Lives of Illustrious) 
Men. 3 Vols., 12mo. cloth, gilt, 
$4.50/ 
JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 and 16 Veset Street, New Yom. 



STANDARD PUBLICATIONS. 



Pvollins' Ancient History, 4 Vols., 
12mo, cloth, gilt, $6.00. 

Charles Knight's Popular His- 
tory of England, 8 Vols., 12ino, 
Cloth, gilt top, $12.00. 



Lovell's Series of Bed Line 

Poets, 50 Volumes of all the best 
works of the world's great Poets, 
Tennyson, Shakespeare, Milton, Mere- 
dith, Ingelow, Proctor, Scott, Byron, 
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JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers. 

14 ah a 16 Vesey Street, New Yore- 




The finest organ in the ' 



KEYSTONE ORGAN. ufM»w 

from $175 to $125. Acclimatized case. Anti-Shoddy and Anti-Monopoly. Kot all care, 
stops, top end ndrertisement. Warranted for 6 years. Has the Excelsior 18-Stop 
Combination, embracing : Diapason, Flute, Melodia-Forte, Violina, Aeolina, Viola, 
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LOVELL'S LIBRARY -CATALOGUE. 



113. More Words Abont the Bible, 1 163. 

by Rev. Jas. S. Bush 20 

114. Monsieur Lecoq, GaboriauPt. I.. 20 165. 
Monsieur Lecoq, Pt. II 20 166. 

115. An Outline of Irish History, by 

Justin H. McCarthy 10 167. 

116. TheLeronge Case, byGaboriau..20 

117. Paul Clifford, by Lord Lytton. . .20 168, 

118. A New Lease of Life, by About. . 20 

119. Bourbon Lilies 20 169. 

120. Other People's Money, Gaboriau.20 170. 

121. The Lady of Lyons, Lytton. ..10 171. 

122. Ameline de Bourg 15 172. 

123. A Sea Queen, by W. Russell . . . .20 173. 

124. The Ladies Lindores, by Mrs. 174. 

Oliphant , 20 

125. Haunted Hearts, by Simpson... .10 175 

126. Loys, Lord Beresford, by The 176 

Duchess 20 177. 

127. Under Two Flags, Ouida, Pt. I. . 15 178. 
Under Two Flags, Pt. II 15 179. 

128. Money, by Lord Lytton 10 180. 

129 In Peril of HisLife,byGaboriau.20 181. 
HO India, by Max Miiller 20 182. 

131. Jets and Flashes 20 183. 

132. Moonshine and Marguerites, by 184. 

The Duchess 10 

138. Mr Scarborough's Family, by 185. 

Anthony Trollopc, Part 1 15 

Mr. Scarborough' sFamily, Pt 11.15 

134. Arden, by A. Mary F. Robinson.15 

135. The Tower of Percemont 20 18G. 

136. Yolande, by Wm. Black 20 

137 Cruel London, by Joseph Hatton.20 | 187. 
1 38* The Gilded Clique, by Gaboriau.20 188. 

139. Pike County Folks, B. H. Mott. .20 189. 
1 4C)! Cricket on the Hearth 10 

141. Henry Esmond, by Thackeray.. 20 190. 

142. Strange Adventures of a Phae- 191. 

ton, by Wm. Black 20 192. 

1 43 Denis Duval, by Thackeray 10 193. 

144 Old Cariosity Shop,Dickens,PtI.15 
Old Curiosity Shop, Part II. . . .15 194. 

145. Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part 1 15 195. 

Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part II 15 

146 Whit* Wings, by Wm. Black.. 20 196. 

147* The Sketch Book, by Irving 20 197. 

14s! Catherine, by W. M. Thackeray.10 

149. Janet's Repentance, by Eliot. . . .10 198. 

150. Barnaby Radge, Dickens, Pt I..15 199. 
Barnabv Rudge, Part II 15 

151. Felix Holt, by George Eliot. . . .20 

1 52. Richelieu, by Lord Lytton 10 

153. Sunrise, by Wm. Black, Part I . . 15 200 
Sunrise, by Wm. Black. Part 11.15 201 

154. Tour of the World in 80 Days.. 20 

155. Mystery of Orcival, Gaboriau....20 

156. Love), the Widower, by W. M. 202. 

Thackeray 10 203. 

157. Romantic Adventures of a Milk- 204 

maid, by Thomas Hardy 10 205 

158. David Copperfleld, Dickens, Pt 1.20 
David Copperfleld, Part II 20 206 

160. Rienzi, by Lord Lytton, Part I.. 15 207 
R'enzi, by Lord Lytton, Part II. 15 

161. Promise of Marriage, Gaboriau. .10 208 

162. Faith and Unfaith, by The 

Duchess 20 



Happy Man, by Lover... 10 
Barry Lyndon, by Thackeray.... 20 

Eyre's Acquittal 10 

Twen y Thousand Leagues Un- 
der the Sea, by Jules Verne . . . .20 
Anti-Slavery Days, by James 

Freeman Clarke 20 

Beauty's Daughters, by The 

Duchess .20 

Beyond the Sunrige.. 20 

Hard Times, by Charles Dickens. 20 
Tom Cringle's Locr, by M.Scott.. 20 
Vanity Fair, by W. M.Thackeray. ?o 
Underground Ruesia, Stepniak..20 
Middlemarch, bv Elliot, Pt I. ,..20 

Middlemarch, Part II 20 

SirTom, by Mrs. Oliphant 

Pelham, by Lord Lytton ;:0 

The Story of Ida 10 

Madcap Violet, by Wm. Black. .20 

The Little Pilgrim 10 

Kilmeny, by Wm. Black 20 

Whist, or Bumblepuppy? 10 

The Beautiful Wretch, Black. ...20 
Her Mother's Sin, by B. M. Clay.30 
Green Pastures and Piccadilly, 

byWm.Black 20 

The Mysterious Island, by Jules 

Verne, Part 1 15 

The Mysterious Island, Part II. .15 
The Mysterious Island, Part III. 15 
Tom Brown at Oxford, Part I. . .15 
rr 'om Brown at Oxford, Part II. .15 
Thicker than Water, by J. Payn.2 I 
In Silk Attire, by Wm. Black. . .20 
Scottish Chiefs. Jane Porter,Pt.I.20 

Scottish Chiefs, Part II. 20 

Willy Reilly, by Will Carleton..20 
The Nad'tz Family, by Sheliey.20 
Great Expectations, by Inckens.^O 
Pendennis,by Thackeray, Part L20 
Pendenni8,by Thackeray, Part j 20 

Widow Bedott Papers 20 

Daniel Deronda,Geo. Eliot.Pt. 1.20 

Daniel Deronda, Part II 20 

AltioraPeto, by Oliphant 20 

By the Gate of the Sea, by David 

Christie Murray 15 

Tales of a Traveller, by Irving. . .20 
Life and Voyages of Columbus, 
by Washington Irving, Part I. .20 
Life and Voyages of Columbus, 
by Washington Irving, Part 11.20 

The Pilgrim's Progress 20 

Martin Chuzzlewit, by Charles 

Dickens, Part 1 20 

Martin Chuzzlewit, Part II 20 

Theophrastus Such, Geo. Eliot. . .20 
Disarmed, M. Betham-Ed wards.. 15 
Eugene Aram, by Lord Lytton. 20 
The Spanish Gypsy and Other v 

Poems, by George Eliot 20 

Cast Up by the Sea. Baker 20 

Mill on the Floss, Eliot, Pt. I. . .15 

Mil 1 on the Floss, Part II 15 

Brother Jacob, and Mr. Gilfll's 

Love Story, by George Eliot, . .10 
Wrecks in the Sea of Life .20 



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